


Akratic

by Lucky_Charlie_Tango925



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bruce, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Manipulation, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Destruction, Story Name Changed From Honour To Them, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Top Clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky_Charlie_Tango925/pseuds/Lucky_Charlie_Tango925
Summary: On the tenth anniversary of his parent’s deaths, Bruce was in Asia, working hard to forge his future as Batman, with little time to focus on anything else! But, another ten years on and on the twentieth anniversary of their deaths, the city of Gotham prepares to honour and celebrate the lives of Martha and Thomas Wayne. And, Bruce finds himself struggling to deal with his inner demons.Can Bruce reframe from the temptations of the pain numbing pleasures that debauchery can offer!? And what of Clark? How will Bruce’s lover handle all of this?
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 46
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all,
> 
> This is going to be an intense story, please be aware before reading that it does involve drug use and self harm. I am writing this story with some of my own personal experiences so please don't judge me too hard. Everyone goes through hard times in their lives and I am no different. Please, if you need help or need to talk to someone, I am here to talk otherwise please contact your local help lines!
> 
> I will also ensure to place a suicide warning on the chapter where the attempt takes place. Please do not read that chapter if it will trigger you. Thanks.
> 
> Please feel free to leave any constructive criticism, advice or ideas if you have any, I am open to anything!
> 
> Please Enjoy!
> 
> *Story edited and overhauled 03/06/2020*

It was Friday night and Bruce sat behind his desk in his study, staring at the calendar that sat upon the mahogany worktop. Scowling, Bruce was silently seething. It had been nearly a month since he had heard from Clark, he knew it was his fault, but he thought that by now his partner would have caved in and relented however. Clark was on an away mission with J’onn, they were deep undercover in hostile Russian territory. When Clark had first set off on his mission, he had contacted Bruce a couple times a week. After the first two weeks, Bruce had told him off, stating he didn’t need to contact him all the time and to focus on his mission. Clark had argued that he was fully capable of doing both at the same time, which had led to an argument. Bruce had hung up the phone in a huff and refused to contact Clark to apologise. Not because he didn’t want to interrupt his lover’s mission, God, how he wanted to, but because he didn’t want to be the one to admit defeat. Even if Bruce had been a little harsher than necessary, he was right and was sick of Clark constantly undermining him. Superman was the leader of the Justice League, but Batman, Batman was the brains behind the operation. Whenever Clark constantly refused to listen to him or didn’t follow instructions, it ground his gears. They always made up though, Clark would apologise, then Bruce would admit maybe he could relax a little, then they’d have amazing make up sex. 

However, it seemed like this time, the bull headed Kryptonian wasn’t backing down. Bruce had only wanted Clark to cut communications back to once a week. Not only for the sake of his mission, but for the sake of his own. From the moment Clark had left, Bruce had a longing in his body that wouldn’t go away and after every phone call, it just made it worse. After their call, he’d be distracted all night. He’d end up not being able to focus enough to go out on patrol and after Clark’s cheeky goading on the phone, Bruce was left with a painful ache in his groin which wouldn’t go away, no matter how much onanism he performed. 

Sighing and slouching back in his chair, Bruce groaned. Damn, he missed Clark. It was actually kind of pathetic how much he relied on the man. Closing his eyes and rubbing his hands over his face, Bruce heard a knock at the door. “Come in.” He called. As the door opened, he watched as Alfred crossed the room, carrying with him a tray. When he set the tray down, delicious aromas filled Bruce’s nose. It was nearly three in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten all day, he had been distracted going through paperwork, which Lucius had demanded he read and sign before the end of the day. With his stomach growling, he turned in his chair to face his dear friend and guardian. “Thanks, Alfred, I’m starved.”

“Of course, you are, Sir.” Alfred gave him a reprimanding glare. “Just because Master Clark is away, does not mean you should not eat, Master Bruce.” Bruce harrumphed at the other man’s name. “Yes, yes. I know all about your little quarrel with Superman. Master Clark has been keeping me well informed these last few weeks.”

Bruce grumbled under his breath. Not only was it bad enough Clark was flat out refusing to speak to him, but he was now speaking to everyone else but him. Glancing at the tray in front of him, Bruce noticed a silver envelope with his name on it. Picking it up, he murmured surlily. “And, what pray tell, is this?”

Standing up straight, Alfred informed him. “That, Sir, is yet another invitation from the Mayor, requesting your attendance at tomorrow’s celebration.”

After scrunching up the letter, Bruce threw it across the room and into the lit fire place. As the paper caught alight, he spoke sternly. “I already told you, Alfred, I’m not attending. They’re dead. I don’t see the point in all this unnecessary fuss being made.”

“Master Bruce, I understand this time of year has always been hard for you and with Master Clark away, I know you’ve been testier then usual...” Alfred trailed off as he took a deep breath and Bruce scowled up at him. “But, I believe your parents would be honoured by this gesture the city is bestowing and I think it would mean a lot to the people of Gotham, if their Prince and the son of those that are being celebrated attended.”

Bruce sighed and sat up in his chair properly as Alfred began to lay out his meal on the desk. This time of year, was hard, and it didn’t help having the whole city of Gotham reminding him, that his heart’s greatest desire would never be fulfilled. “Why now, Alfred?” Bruce asked, his words almost a whisper. He was struggling to contain his grief. 

“Oh, Master B.” Bruce could hear the sorrow in his voice.

“It’s been twenty years, Alfred. Why now? What’s the point?” Bruce turned his chair so as he was square to the side of Alfred’s body. 

Taking notice, Alfred turned and took a step closer to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Alfred lent down and held Bruce’s bowed head to his chest. “I know, Bruce. It’s hard.” Bruce smiled internally at the drop of formalities. Patting his hair, Alfred spoke ruefully. “I believe your parents would be proud of you, as am I and I know if Master Clark were here, he’d be awfully proud of you too, he would even insist on attending with you.” At that statement, Alfred placed a finger under his chin and brought his face up to meet his. “But, as he is not here, I will be there standing by your side, if you wish.”

Looking into the care worn eyes of his closest companion, Bruce relented. “There’s no getting out of this, is there?”

Stepping back and placing the now empty tray under his arm, Alfred spoke. “I will not and cannot force you to go, if you do not want to, Sir. But, I honestly think this would be a very good thing to do.”

Bruce nodded his head and turned his seat to face the desk. Picking up his fork, he stated sombrely. “Okay, I’ll go. But, on one condition.”

“And, what is that, Sir?” Alfred spoke while rotating on the spot, preparing to leave. 

“You must attend with me.” Bruce looked away trying to hide his embarrassed face. 

Bruce could hear the smile in the older man’s voice as he spoke. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

With that, Bruce started on his meal and Alfred exited the room. 

~

The next day, standing at the back of the grand function room of city hall, Bruce felt numb and empty inside. Upon arriving a few hours earlier, an alert from the Batcave had come through, stating there had been some kind of emergency which needed attention. Bruce had ordered Alfred to take him home, but his guardian insisted on him staying and that he would travel back via taxi to organise a response team.

Almost an hour later, Bruce received an update from Dick, stating that his team of young heroes had the case under control. Normally, Bruce would be thrilled, but standing isolated in the corner of a room full of people, all he felt was envy. He didn’t want to be there and even after Alfred had promised to be by his side, he was alone and angry that he couldn’t do anything about it. He really wished Clark were there. That big goofy idiot always somehow knew how to distract him and cheer him up in times like these. They had been together a few years now, six to be precise. They had met not long after his debut as Batman. With meeting so early on in his development of the vigilante, Bruce had put aside his ideas of being a notorious playboy womaniser and resigned his fate to being nothing more than a cocky, precocious, flippant and simple-minded gentry that everyone expected of a spoiled blue blood. 

Clark still played the role of the mild mannered, clumsy reporter from Metropolis, that he played for the brief few years before they met, but was now also known for being, Bruce Wayne’s, self-assured, strong and silent partner and somehow, he made the two types of personalities work seamlessly together. Somehow, he managed to make clumsy and reserved look sexy. When he would pretend to trip, spill something or stutter over his words, he owned it and brushed it off like it was nothing. Even though Bruce knew it was an act, it was oddly alluring and it seemed everyone else agreed. Clark and Bruce were even named Gotham’s hottest couple three years in a row. 

Sighing, Bruce realised all this thinking about Clark was doing nothing to help the hollow feeling he held inside. For most of the night, people had left him alone, obviously unsure as to how to approach him. Usually, people were fighting over each other to speak to either him or his partner, but tonight, the distance made everything feel worse. So, when Bruce heard a person approach and place their hand on the small of his back, he couldn’t help but jump a little. 

“Hey, Bruce. How you holding up?” Oliver spoke warily.

“Hey, Ollie. I’m fine. Are you enjoying your night?” Bruce asked unenthusiastically.

“Wow, even with the drone in your voice, I almost believed you.” Oliver turned to look him in the eyes. With a serious tone in his voice he spoke. “I know we have our differences and we don’t see eye to eye very often, but I can understand how hard this is for you. We may have been a few years apart in school, but I remember Martha and Thomas vividly. I remember seeing them at all the gala’s and charity dinners growing up and I can even admit, I feel the lack of their presence here now, so I can only imagine how much worse it is for you.” Oliver removed his hand from Bruce’s back before continuing. “Bruce, I know you normally keep everything inside and don’t show your feelings, but you’re one of my oldest friends and teammates, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Bruce gave the other man a half-hearted smile. Even though he hated to admit it, Oliver was right. Despite the fact they butt heads all the time, Oliver was one of his oldest friends and he had come to care for the man immensely and as much as he hated people pushing into his business, he was grateful for the other man’s company and support at that very moment. “Thanks.” He murmured. 

Obviously seeing his carefully held together composure, Oliver offered. “I know you don’t usually drink because of your training, but come, I think we deserve a stiff one.”

Bruce thought for a moment, before nodding his head. One drink wouldn’t hurt, would it?

~

It was nearing midnight and things were starting to get blurry. He hadn’t meant to drink so much, but after the first drop of liquor touched his lips, Bruce couldn’t help himself. Over a span of four hours, he and Oliver had put away over two dozen shots together. As Oliver lay slumped over the bar, Bruce grinned. It had been a long time since he had gone drinking like this. If he remembered correctly, the last time, it had been with the blonde-haired archer next to him as well. Bruce had been in his early twenties and was preparing for his journey to Asia. Bruce knew from experience that tomorrow he would wake up feeling horrible, but he didn’t care. Thanks to Oliver, he was able to forget about everything for a little while. 

Hearing the soft snores from his friend beside him, Bruce laughed as he reached into the other man’s jacket and pulled out his phone. Grabbing Oliver’s thumb and placing it over the finger print scanner, Bruce scrolled through the man’s contacts before pressing one and calling it. As the phone rang, Bruce was hit with the hiccups. God, he really was drunk, wasn’t he?!

“Hello?” The strong voice of another one of his friends came through the phone. 

Bruce hiccupped into the mouth piece. “H-H-Hello.”

“Bruce? What are you doing with Ollie’s phone? Is he okay?” The feminine voice sounded concerned. 

“Shh, he’s fine. He’s just sleeping.” Bruce tried to hold back the hiccup and laugh that was threatening to come out. He really was smashed if he had the giggles for no reason. 

“Are, are you drunk?”

Bruce took a deep breath to try and pull himself together. “I’ve had a couple drinks, but no, I’m not drunk. I was just calling to say; your husband has passed out on the bar and needs picking up.” Bruce wasn’t sure how convincing his lie was, but hoped his friend wouldn’t push him for anymore answers. Thankfully, she didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Okay.” Bruce responded, before hanging up. 

Putting the phone back into the other man’s pocket, Bruce climbed off his stool. He wobbled for a moment, before finding his equilibrium. Grabbing Oliver’s limp arms, he half carried, half dragged the man away from the bar and out the room. 

As he opened the front door to the hall, the cold night air rushed through the thin fabric of his suit. In an instant Bruce was chilled to his core. Walking over to the steps of the hall, Bruce lowered them both into a seating position on the top step. Upon doing so, in his sleep Oliver snuggled into him trying to warm himself against the freezing temperatures. Normally, Bruce wouldn’t allow such familiarities, but he had had too much to drink to even care. Even though they were both shivering somewhat, Bruce didn’t mind. He needed it, the cold was helping him to sober up. 

Sitting on the steps waiting, it felt like time stood still. Time suddenly felt irrelevant. He knew it could have only been minutes, but it felt like they’d been sitting on the steps for hours. Even though Bruce’s mind was cloudy, he could see and feel his demons slowly gaining control of him. Without his friend being conscious and distracting him, he started to understand why alcohol was known as a depressant. Usually, Bruce was able to keep a tight hold on his inner weaknesses, use them to his strengths, but at that very moment, his inhibitions were lowered. He was unable to control his negative thoughts. Slowly he felt himself spiral deeper and deeper into his own mind.

“Bruce? Bruce? Are you okay?”

Bruce’s mind returned to reality, as he saw the concerned spread across Dinah’s face. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought.” Looking to his side, he noticed Oliver was gone. 

“He’s in the car. When you didn’t even register me waking him and forcing him to go, I got concerned.” Dinah placed a reassuring hand on his knee, she was squatting down in front of him, a few steps below. 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long day. I’m fine though.” Bruce tried to convince her, though he could tell he was failing. 

A frown crossed the beautiful blonde-haired woman’s brow. “Are you sure? You don’t seem okay. Do you need a lift home? How much have you had to drink?”

Bruce let out a haughty laugh. “Unlike that fool, I can hold my alcohol. I was just lost in thought. I’ll be okay. I’ll drive myself home shortly.” 

The woman behind the Canary didn’t look convinced, but conceded. “Okay, well, I better get him home. Stay safe, Bruce.”

Bruce nodded his head, before climbing to his feet and heading inside. 

Once in the main foyer, Bruce found the nearest elevator and rode it down to the underground car park. As he got into his Lamborghini and started the ignition, Bruce knew he shouldn’t be driving, but he also didn’t want Alfred breathing down his neck about his intoxication level. After clipping his seat belt on, Bruce put the car into first gear and drove out the garage. 

As he drove towards the manor, Bruce found himself taking an unexpected detour. Without realising it, he was headed towards Gotham cemetery.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce encounters an unexpected person whilst visiting his parents graves!  
> Let the pain numbing begin!
> 
> *WARNING: DRUG USE!*

Slowly walking the footpath to his parent’s graves, Bruce was finding his mind drifting again. He hated this, he just wanted to rid himself of his demons just for a little while. When he wasn’t wasted, Bruce was always fighting to keep them locked away in a box, somewhere deep within his subconscious, but now that he had been drinking, he found that he was needing more and more concentration to keep it sealed and with his mind constantly drifting, the monsters within were winning the struggle. 

As he drew closer to his family’s mausoleum, Bruce could see an outline of a figure come into view. At first, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him, but as he got closer, the outline of a bald-headed man became clear. Bracing himself, Bruce continued to slowly stroll nearer. 

“Good evening, Bruce.” The voice of the man broke through the stillness of the night.

Taking a fortifying breath, Bruce spoke to the all too familiar voice. “Good evening, Lex.” As he came to stand next to the man, Bruce questioned. “And, what can my dear parents and I help you with tonight?”

“Oh, nothing.” Lex shrugged nonchalantly. “I just came to pay my respects.”

“And, why would you do that?” Bruce didn’t bother to hide the contempt in his voice. 

“Believe it or not, Bruce, but, our families were once close. If I recall correctly, we were close once too.” 

“Yes, I’m well aware of our families’ amicable history. But, didn’t that all end, when your father became crazed with power and he abused the people closest to him?” He scoffed but Bruce thought back. He hadn’t seen Lex at the gala, so maybe the man was really here to pay his reverences.

Lex chortled. “You’re quite right. When my father’s crack pot schemes came to the public’s knowledge, many of the country’s elite distanced themselves from him. When that happened, Lionel lashed out and started abusing those who had disavowed him.”

“Yes, and if I also remember correctly, I believe I too distanced myself from you, when it became clear you were no better than him.” Bruce’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Our friendship from the days at Excelsior Prep are long gone now, Lex.

“Indeed, they are, Bruce, indeed, they are!” Lex sighed. “But, think what you will, however you and your little Justice League friends will never understand my agenda.”

“And, that is?” He questioned.

“I am trying to help the world. I’m trying to save it from itself.” Lex sighed deeply. When Bruce didn’t respond, Lex spoke again. “You look tired, Bruce.”

Bruce swallowed and gazed towards the sky. “You know my nocturnal schedule, Lex. I am far from tired.”

“Oh, I know, but I wasn’t talking about physically. You look like you are struggling from within. It looks like it’s taking a lot of energy.”

Bruce sighed. Was that why everyone kept asking if he was okay? Was his internal battle really that obvious? “This conversation is over, Lex.” As Bruce turned to leave, he was halted as he felt a hand grab a hold of the back of his suit jacket.

“Follow me back to my hotel, Bruce, I’ve got something that can help you.” Lex let go of his jacket. 

“And, why would I do that? It’s probably a trap.”

Lex let out a chuckle. “Indeed, it could be. But, let me tell you something. One, if it were a trap, I wouldn’t be so obvious. Two, even if I wanted to apprehend you and do something to you, I wouldn’t, because I’d have Superman on my back for the rest of my life and, three, trust it or not, despite mine and Clark’s history, I really do prefer when he isn’t stopping my plans.” Bruce stood silently and pondered for a moment. Lex wasn’t a man who normally lied about his intentions. He was actually extremely forth coming. Maybe not to the public, but when he told the league something, you could ninety-five percent of the time take him at his word. Bruce normally wouldn’t associate with Lex Luthor under any circumstances, but the offer of relief was extraordinarily tempting. “Come, Bruce. There is no trickery here. You have one of the most accomplished minds of the world, why not give it the rest it deserves.” 

Bruce hesitated as the other man caressed his arm and tentatively pulled him back along the footpath towards his car. When they arrived beside the gorgeous blacked out machine, Bruce spoke hesitantly. “Lex, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

As Lex reached out and opened the car door, he stated. “Bruce, Superman and Batman being around keeps my life interesting, I have no ill intentions towards you. I just want to help an old friend out. You’re in pain and all I want to do is help ease it for you.” Bruce’s tongue darted out and wet his dry lips as he swallowed to moisten his throat. Bruce didn’t speak, he just nodded and climbed into his car. “That’s a good boy. Now, I’ll meet you out on the main road, you can follow me back.” Bruce just nodded again as the other man shut the car door.

~

Entering the penthouse of one of Gotham’s most esteemed hotels, Bruce shook his head. He had no real clue why he was there. Whatever Lex had to offer him was bad news for sure. He knew that and yet he still followed the man all the way back to his hotel. 

As he walked across the marble floor and into the large open living area, Bruce removed his jacket and tie. Hanging them over the back of the couch, Bruce watched as Lex walked over to an end table and procured an envelope. As the bald man walked back over to the lounge and took a seat, he opened the envelope and pulled out two small clear resealable bags, no larger than the size of his palm. Inside the bags were little white tablets. He held them in the air and smiled towards Bruce.

“And, what are those, Lex?” Bruce asked warily.

Raising a goading brow, Lex spoke. “These, Bruce, are what are going to help you find a small bit of peace.”

“Yes, I gathered that. But, what exactly are they?”

“LSD, Bruce. They are LSD.”

Bruce frowned. “And, you think I’m the type of person who does drugs?”

“No, not really. But, you forget, apart from our sweet Boyscout and dear old Alfred, there is no one who knows you better than me!”

“Careful, the Joker might hear you and get upset with both of us.” Bruce snorted. His statement was actually really sad because unfortunately it was true. Joker was obsessed with him, maybe even more so than Lex was with Clark. 

Lex laughed cheerfully. “I’ll keep that in mind. But, back to business, I know at this very moment in time, that you’re willing to do anything to calm the torment inside so, just take two and your problems will cease to exist for ten to twelve hours.”

Bruce sighed. Lex was right. He may not know him as well as his beloved and oldest companion, but Lex still knew all about his torment. Knew all about the struggles he faced in high school. Lex and Oliver may have been a few grades ahead of him, but they were one of his only friends during his schooling. Lex was also correct in knowing he really was willing to do anything at this stage, though he didn’t want to give his partners nemesis the satisfaction in knowing that. “Even so, why should I trust you? You say you have no ill intentions towards me, yet for all I know, those little pills in your hand could be laced with poison.”

Lex slumped back into the couch, whilst opening one of the bags. “Considering my track record of late, I can understand your hesitance in trusting me, but have I ever led you astray? In all the year’s I’ve known you, have I ever given you reason to doubt the things I say?”

When Bruce didn’t reply, Lex raised a smug brow and placed two pills into his mouth and swallowed. 

Taking a seat on the couch next to Lex, he snatched a baggy of pills from the other man. Taking a deep breath, Bruce swallowed the recommended two pills and placed the rest in his waistcoat pocket. This was something he would never have considered doing before this week, but it had been a long week battling with himself and if taking a couple God damn pills meant easing his suffering just for a little bit, it was something he was willing to do. He knew psychedelics were essentially nontoxic, affecting the brain but not the rest of the body. There was technically no lethal dose, and no risk of addiction. It all depended on the person. So, he wasn’t too concerned about any lasting effects it would have on him.

As the two men sat, strewn across the couch, they reminisced. They spoke about the times when Oliver would convince them to sneak out of their classes and spy on the girls in the locker rooms, to the nights Lex would invite them into his dorm room to get drunk and to the times when they would charm the girls from the neighbouring Preparatory to skip school and accompany them to various activities only the elite could afford. 

After twenty-five minutes of feeling nothing, Bruce started to wonder if Lex had slipped him sugar pills. He knew it wasn’t like a pharmaceutical effect. The experience, more than the drug, was about changing your mind. It was acquiring a new perspective. Having your sense of self changed. 

Then suddenly, the high hit him. Bruce had awareness without ego, without self. He no longer had boundaries around him. He melted into something larger. It was as if he was finally allowing himself to take himself apart and put himself back together again.

It was as if Bruce had finally gotten a pair of glasses that he didn’t realise he needed and could finally see. He was seeing the world with a brand-new clarity he never realised was always there from the beginning. It was like taking off the blinders, and stepping into a new reality, it felt as though the world had let him in on a secret.

He saw himself dissolve. Well, something he recognised as himself burst into a little cloud of bats.

It was transcendence into the divine.

As the walls around him started to move, the colours of the penthouse became brighter and objects around him began to warp and became distorted, Bruce chuckled to himself. He felt amazing. He felt as though he could hear colours and see sounds. He felt as though he was on cloud nine. He could get used to this.

~

After hours of enjoying his high, he shut his eyes to the world. As the effects of the drugs wore off, Bruce was greeted by blackness, all the colours of the room were gone. The blackness was perfect though, a sort of visual silence that gave a revered awe. With his eyes closed there was the simple sweetness of existing, of being, of breathing, and how those moments extended with such grace until the dawn chose to bring back the colours.

~

Waking up the next day, Bruce felt horrible. His head was throbbing, his mouth and throat felt dry and his whole body ached. Sitting up on the couch, he saw Lex still fast asleep on the other end. As the sun shone through the windows, Bruce felt blinded. His eyes stung from the brightness. 

Looking around the room, Bruce noticed the clock on the wall. Grumbling he climbed to his feet. He wobbled as he stood, but steadied himself on the arm of the couch. It was nearly two in the afternoon, he needed to get home, Alfred and Dick would be wondering where he was by now. 

Grabbing his jacket and tie from where he left them, Bruce left the penthouse and rode the elevator down to the garage. Again, he knew he shouldn’t be driving, but didn’t want to face his butler and guardian just yet. As he climbed into the car, Bruce actually had to give himself some kudos, somehow, he had managed to make it all the way from city hall, to the cemetery and to Lex’s hotel without getting into an accident. He did however know he had been far from a safe driver. He had been all over the road, weaving from one side of the white line to the other. Quickly swerving out of the way when there would be oncoming traffic, narrowly avoiding a collision. He had been well over the limit last night and today he was no better. He undoubtedly still had alcohol and drugs in his system. He wished himself luck for his travel ahead.

~

Pulling up to the manor, Bruce was greeted by an overly excited, Dick Grayson as he ran out the front door. Dick eagerly explained to him his mission with his hands flying around everywhere. “Oh my God, Bruce, you should have seen it last night, Vandal Savage was like CAPOW, but then Superboy came in and smacked him like BAM. And, and, and then KF sped in and tied him up like WHOOSH!” 

Bruce groaned as his head pounded with every word his young ward said. Crossing the drive way and entering into the manor, Bruce headed towards the kitchen while stating. “Sounds like your team did a good job. Now, quiet down, my head is killing me.”

Dick let out a soft laugh while trailing behind him. “Yeah, I heard all about it from Roy. He said that Dinah had to come pick Ollie up because you both drank too much and he had to get Ollie’s car this morning because Ollie was too hung over to.” 

“I’m not going to deny it, we may have over indulged a little.” Bruce shook his pulsating head.

“Even if you did, you wouldn’t get away with it, you wreak of booze.” Dick chortled.

As they entered the kitchen, Bruce was met with an angry glare. “Ah, so the galivant returns.”

Bruce took a weary seat at the kitchen counter and sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean, Alfred?”

Alfred tilted his head. “It means, Master Bruce, while you were out doing God knows what, I was here, worried sick about you.”

“I’m sorry, Alfred.” Bruce ducked his head shamefully.

“Now, which precise thing are you apologising for, Sir? Not telling me you were planning on staying out all night, or the fact you didn’t respond to my calls or messages, or the fact that you told Ms Lance that you would drive yourself home while clearly not being safe to drive and then not actually returning home?”

Bruce bowed his head and said quietly. “I know, I’m sorry, I was planning on coming home and then Lex invited me back to his hotel and –”

“Wait, you went back to Lex’s hotel?” Dick exclaimed. At that moment Bruce knew he had said too much.

Alfred shook his head in disapproval. “You didn’t, did you, Sir?”

“No, I wouldn’t. I’d never.” He muttered. “We just sat and spoke about old times. He helped distract me and gave me a place to sleep.” 

Alfred looked shocked and then seemed to study him. He saw a look of understanding come into the older man’s eyes and then he spoke softly. “I see, well, you are home now, that is all that matters. Coffee?”

Bruce nodded his still aching head. Bruce felt atrocious. Not only was he feeling the after math of his escapades of the previous night, but his mind was slowly starting to return to the place he wanted to whole heartedly stay away from. 

After taking a long sip of coffee, Bruce placed his cup down and held his face in his hands, grinding the heels of his palms against his eyes. Removing his hands from his face, the blackness engulfed his thoughts. Compared to the previous night, it wasn’t the same. It actually scared Bruce. It was as if it was stretching out in front of him like a map, the unknown studying his fears, his courage and his knowledge. There was no life within it. It was simple, no thriving population, no signs of past living. The darkness had overcome any sense of purity, consumed all hope of cleanliness and had wiped out all desire.

Bruce watched as it seeped up through the joints in the floorboards and snaked out from the dark corners and crevices of the room. The blackness formed from some primeval hatred, and the collective despair of all those it had taken before, bleeding into their shadows cast by their own candlelight.

With a deep breath he took another sip of coffee. Bruce decided there and then he needed something stronger. Something to help numb the pain again. Glancing across the kitchen towards his butler, he stated. “Alfred, I need you to go to the store for me.”

“And, what do you need, Master Bruce?” Alfred raised an inquisitive brow.

“I need you to buy me the strongest and cheapest scotch you can find. The stuff in the cellar won’t cut it.”

“No!”

Bruce blinked in bewilderment. “What?”

Alfred glowered and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry, Master Bruce, but I can see where this is going and I will not enable you.”

Bruce shot back angrily. “Alfred, you work for me. Therefore, if I ask you to buy me something, then, you buy it.”

“Bruce, don’t!” Dick murmured softly next to him.

“I’m sorry, Master Bruce, but I refuse.” 

“You can’t refuse!” Bruce snapped furiously. 

“Will you fire me, Master Bruce?”

“What?” Bruce asked baffled.

“You heard me.” Alfred quipped.

“Of course not.” Bruce rolled his eyes. ‘What a stupid question.’ He thought.

“Then it seems, I can decline your demand after all, Sir.” 

“Fine!” Bruce shouted as he stood and stomped out the room, while muttering. “This is God damn fucking ludicrous.” 

~

After pacing around his bedroom for nearly half an hour, Bruce finally decided. If Alfred wasn’t going to enable him to drink his problems away, then he was going to take the only other method he had. 

Bruce realised that, if your life after tripping and your life before tripping were the same, you must have already had the perfect life. But he didn’t have the perfect life, now did he? Bruce definitely felt better after his drug induced adventure, but now he was sober again, he understood that he wanted nothing more than to be back in that place all over again. He wanted to keep looking.

Walking over to his bed to his discarded waistcoat, Bruce grabbed out the baggy of pills he had forgotten Lex had given him the night before. With the number of pills still left in the bag and after calculating how long each trip would roughly last for, he figured he had enough to last him till the end of the following week.

Grabbing two pills, Bruce slipped them into his mouth and swallowed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's struggle takes him whole!
> 
>   
> *WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT!* Please continue reading at your own caution!

Waking up, Bruce wondered where he was. As he looked around his cold, dark surroundings, he realised he was in his cave under the manor. Climbing to his feet and off the hard-cavernous floor, Bruce groaned in pain. What was he doing down here?

Looking down at his body, Bruce saw the all too familiar sight of black kevlar. Walking across the cave toward the computer, Bruce saw his reflection in the black monitor. Leaning in closely to the screen, he could see there was blood on his gauntlets and face and a bruise above his right eye, yet he couldn't recall why. Reaching up and touching his skin, he winced in pain as he felt the tenderness of his nose and felt the gashes on his lip.

With his mind still foggy, Bruce couldn’t comprehend what had happened and why he was in his bat suit. Taking a seat in his chair, Bruce switched on the computer. As the screen flashed on, Bruce took notice of the time. It was seven twenty-six in the morning, he had lost nearly thirteen hours. What had happened?

After the computer had roared to life, Bruce opened a few applications and brought up the footage from his Batsuit. Before pressing play on the footage, Bruce pondered what he might see. He remembered taking the pills and laying on his bed waiting for them to kick in, then remembered feeling the same sensation from the last three previous night’s wash over him and he remembered seeing things begin to change around him, but after that, everything went blank. He prayed to God that he didn’t do anything stupid. He knew he must have at least gotten into a fight for his face to be so badly hurt, but couldn’t remember who it was with.

Once he pressed the play button, Bruce saw as he swung from roof top to roof top in Gotham, all the while laughing to himself as he heard himself looking at things in awe. 

Bruce cringed inwardly, this was not good. 

As the commonality of crime increased, unease in the world grew rapidly. Any person with a difficult to handle case was treated with leniency and let out to offend repeatedly. Societies that had been passive grew more violent, and nowhere was this development more noticeable than in Gotham. Gotham had the highest rates of crime, mob affiliation, gangs, parliamentary corruption, dirty police, Metahuman occurrences and Super Villains. It also didn’t help that every violent person had more rights than the developmentally normal person. Every time they assaulted another person they were counselled and given another chance. If they offended enough, prison was considered ineffective and no sentence was given at all. They weren’t even sent to Arkham for evaluation. It all being considered a waste of time. 

That’s why Bruce did what he did. He wanted to make sure those that did wrong were punished or rehabilitated, and the victims taken care of and guided so as they didn’t turn their backs on the system and become the criminals themselves. His goal was to clean up the streets of Gotham and in turn, Jim Gordan would do his part in bringing the G.C.P.D and the city’s government back from venality. Then he and the rest of the Justice League would help the world. 

So, it worried Bruce to see himself, out on the streets of Gotham in such a state.

Fast forwarding through the recording, Bruce watched as he continued this type of behaviour for a solid forty-five minutes. After a while Bruce relaxed somewhat, wondering if maybe his face was so messed up because of a fall, instead of a fight.

However, that thought didn’t last long when he heard the sounds of sirens playing over the speakers. Bruce watched on as he responded to the noise. He watched as he grappled to the harbour and saw the reason for the sirens come into view. Bruce grumbled when he saw it was Bane. Leaning back in his chair, Bruce was intrigued to see how a drug induced Batman would handle the situation. As the footage continued to play, Bruce watched on in astonishment, though his form was sloppy and his actions all over the place, Batman had swiftly and easily defeated Bane’s goons. It was astounding. 

Bruce smiled smugly to himself as he watched himself turn his attention to Bane. This was going to be interesting. As the footage kept going, Bruce’s eyes widened as he watched himself take a beating, at the same time laughing and mocking the man doing the punching. 

“Is that all you’ve got, Bane? My mother could probably hit harder then you!” The recording of Batman chortled. 

Throwing punch after punch, Bane replied. “How are you still laughing? How are you still fucking conscious?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I like being hit, or maybe, you’re just a weak pathetic wanna be slouch.”

Pulling back, but staying straddled over the top of Batman, Bane tittered. “The Joker always said you’d go crazy one day. That you’d submit to the madness. Was he right, Batman? Have you finally gone insane?”

“Maybe you should hit me harder and find out, you piss ant.” Batman spat blood in the other man’s face.

“Oh, your wish is my command.” Bane chuckled as he returned to throwing punches. 

Bruce continued to watch as he was severely struck, but still laughing manically. Bane threw his body weight behind his fists that continued to strike his face, they hit his jaw with such force, Bruce could hear the blood pool into his mouth again on the screen. It had surprised Bruce that nothing was broken in the process. The upgrades to his cowl had really worked, it had seemingly taken most of the impacts, shielding his face from any major damage. 

Bruce then observed as he saw Bane draw his fists back again and again, as they ploughed into his stomach. He now understood why his gut felt like it was hit by a train head on.

After a while he could see the fatigue slowly take a hold of Bane. When his punches became weaker and slower, the thug groaned. “Fucking forget it, I’m out of here.” 

Bruce watched on in astonishment as he saw his enemy, climb off of him and disappear into the night.

After fast forwarding through the footage once more and watching himself clamber to his feet and return to the cave, Bruce shut off the computer. Once he stood, Bruce slowly made his way to the changing area and had a shower and got into a pair of track pants and a t-shirt. 

When he was dressed, he sluggishly staggered up the stairs and into the manor. Bruce chuckled lowly to himself, that wasn’t the way he had expected to interact with one of his enemies, but it had definitely left a mark and boasted his image of being an overwrought vigilante. The look on Bane’s face had been priceless, the sheer shock and anxiousness was brilliant.

Though he didn’t like having gaps in his memory, the experience had made him only want to hurry up stairs and down another couple of pills even more. 

~

Walking into his room, Bruce went to his bedside table to find his baggy of bliss. Upon opening the draw, Bruce became frantic. All his pills were gone, they were missing. Rushing around the room, Bruce looked all over trying to find where he had misplaced them. 

He was on his hands and knees looking under his bed when he heard a cough from the door.

“Looking for something, Master Bruce?” 

Bruce turned to see Alfred staring down at him. Quickly jumping to his feet and pressing the wrinkles out of his clothes, Bruce composed himself. “Umm, yes, actually I am. It appears I have misplaced a special gift from a friend.”

“I see, and would this special gift have anything to do with the narcotics I found in your draw, Sir?” Alfred scowled across to him. 

“You’ve been snooping?” Bruce glared back at him.

Alfred’s gaze softened. “Only because I have been worried about you, Master Bruce.” 

Bruce dismissed the other man’s statement and inquired. “Where are they, Alfred?”

“I flushed them down the toilet, Sir.”

He wanted to cry as rage filled his chest. He felt his ears getting hot. He glared at him, then spat out. "How dare you? Why the fuck would you do that? "

“For your own wellbeing.” Alfred stated matter of fact. 

Bruce burst forward in a fit of anger. Once nose to nose with the older man, he screamed. “If you really cared for me or knew what was best for me, then you wouldn’t have flushed them.”

Alfred wiped the spittle from his face, unperturbed by the shouting. “Please, calm down, Master Bruce.”

“No, no I will not calm down.” Bruce shoved him out the room. “You stupid, stupid old man!” Slamming the door shut he screamed. “Get out!” 

~

After hours of shouting and yelling into thin air and punching walls, he was now in the bathroom. Bruce stood gazing into the mirror, sunken eyes staring back at him. The life was gone from his face, his hair was kinked, and he was clad in his baggy sweats he had changed into after leaving the cave. He fell forward, catching himself on the porcelain sink and bowed his head, shoulders shaking. A sense of deja vu swept over him, as the ghosts of his past paraded around him and within him, a sneaky reminder of all the nights after his parent’s death’s and as a teenager he had spent there, struggling to keep breathing when his entire body seemed to sag with exhaustion and numbed agony.

He couldn’t do this any longer. If Alfred wasn’t going to allow him to drink or use drugs to get rid of his pain, he didn’t know any other solution. He couldn’t live this way anymore.

The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by his long intakes of air. Tears began to spill from his helpless eyes onto the marble bench. His gaze fell to the straight razor in his hand. The same razor Alfred had given him on his thirteenth birthday, when the first signs of facial hair had started to appear. In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without him, that time would never stop, undid him completely. All pretence of quiet coping was lost and he sank to the floor not caring about the chilling tiles that quickly froze him to the bone. 

The emptiness in his heart, the numbness pounding in his brain, the salty tears that flowed unchecked from his eyes, the shear nothingness that now took hold of his soul, engulfed him entirely.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce steadied his hand with the blade and dug his thumb into his bicep. Pushing in forcefully, Bruce felt around until he found the Brachial artery. Running his fingers slowly along the artery and down his arm, Bruce found were it split off into two smaller arteries over the medial epicondyle of the humerus in his inner elbow. Bruce knew with a quick and precise placed cut, he could slice through his skin and the major blood vessel easily, causing him to bleed out in a matter of minutes and with a lot less pain the just slitting his wrists. 

Carefully placing the blade in the desired position, Bruce pushed it into his arm. 

The blade was sharp enough to cut flesh as if it posed no resistance, thankfully making the self-mutilation easier.

The blood didn't stream in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of Bruce's heart. At first it came out thick and strong, flowing down his arm as the bright cranberry red liquid dripped onto the floor. He felt the blood move over his limb, the thick fluid oddly warmer and yet cooler than he thought it would be. After a few moments more, the blood was still leaving his rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses were slower, weaker than before.

In his life, Bruce had given more of himself than perhaps was wise. He fought justice without boundaries and donated money when most would say he should have kept it for himself. And yet, he felt like his endeavours were all for none. He wished he could have done more, but at the same time he hoped he had done enough. His crusade had always been hard but the process of dying was crueller than anything he had ever encountered. 

As the blood continued to leave his body, the pain that once burned like fire faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of his vision and the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Minutes passed as he lay there, then, he heard voices. Alfred and Dick swarmed all over him, trying to help him, he realised. They wanted to save him. If he could have, he would have laughed. Surely, they could tell that it was far too late for him to be saved, yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of his world. The despair and suffering of the world that took everyone he loved away from him. He would be joining them soon though. He would be able to leave all the pain behind. 

He closed his eyes, he could die happily now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Bruce's actions!

The hospital was nothing like the ones he was used to back home, where the receptionist was more plastic than the purified water dispenser. The hospital hallways were like something out of the future. Everything that could shine, did shine. There was stainless steel, sleek floors and the art on the walls were all-natural images in colours as bright as glacier melt-water or spring flowers. The air had a pure fragrance, not sterile, just clean. In the background played music at just the right level to give the patients and staff an emotional lift. But the best part was the ceiling, just clear and high arched. It was like standing out in the open without the risk of rain. Although, Alfred couldn’t expect much else from Gotham Private Hospital. You definitely got what you paid for. The place was certainly run with the highest esteem and Alfred guessed he should have found comfort in that, but at that very moment he was more concerned about his destination.

Above every door he passed was a large plastic sign, dark with white lettering. No fancy fonts, just bold and all-caps. It was so new and spotless he felt like the whole building must have just gotten beamed here from some-place dirt was outlawed.

Entering the hospital room, Alfred sat next to the bed that held his ward. Dominated by a profound sadness, fatigue engraved itself on his worn face. He warmed his shivering hands with the almost lifeless ones of the boy, the man, he had failed. The sorrow was growing more profound with each passing minute.

He didn't have super strength, or laser eyes, he couldn't read minds or move things without touching them, but, Master Bruce was a hero and it killed Alfred to see him like this. He knew he had been suffering for the past few weeks and it was getting harder, he knew the lad was resorting to methods that he wouldn’t normally use, but Alfred hadn’t known he was willing to go this far. 

For once, there was something Alfred did not know and it frightened him. 

When the computer in the cave had alerted him to his ward’s vitals dropping to critical levels, he had been scared out of his mind. He had planned to leave Master Bruce alone to come down from his high and see sense, but when the alarms started blaring he raced to the bedroom, Master Dick hot on his heels. When they had arrived at the large double doors to the master bedroom and found them locked, Alfred didn’t hesitate in busting them open.

From the door way, he had instantly spotted the lifeless body from across the room.

He had swiftly jumped into action, running to his boy’s side and assessed the situation. As he applied pressure to the laceration on the barely conscious man’s arm, Master Dick pulled out his phone and dialled the emergency services. 

When the emergency services arrived, Alfred had been confronted with numerous Police Officers and Paramedics. Clearly a distress call from Gotham’s most venerated family was taken extremely seriously. Jim Gordan had even attended himself. While Alfred had spent the last few hours, explaining all he knew to Mister Gordan and cleaning the blood off the bathroom floor, Master Dick had been sent in the Ambulance with Master Bruce. 

As much as Alfred had wanted to be the one to travel with his charge, he had sent Master Dick instead. It may have seemed manipulative and insensitive, but he hoped that if when Master Bruce woke up, the first face he saw was Master Dick’s, it would give him the much-deserved kick up the derriere he clearly needed.

Alfred was pulled out of his thoughts when the hospital room door was open and someone came in. “Bruce, they didn’t have any of that weird ass and expensive electrolyte drink you wanted, so I got you a Vitamin Water, is that okay?” Alfred peered over his shoulder to see the surprised young man stop in his tracks. “Alfred, about time you got here! He’s been so demanding, I don’t know how you put up with it. Plus, all the doctors and nurses keep looking at me weird just because I know all Bruce’s medical details.”

“Is that so?” Alfred sighed and slumped his shoulders in relief and irritation. As much as the thought, that despite what had happened, Master Dick hadn’t been phased by it and that apparently, Master Bruce was being his same old self, that Master Bruce was either trying to dismiss what had happened or didn’t even care, angered him. His temper was a simmering pot, slow burning, ready to bubble up at any moment. Tempestuously turning back to face the man in the bed, Alfred was greeted by intense blue eyes staring at him. Either Master Bruce had been pretending to be asleep or had just been woken by the younger man’s voice. He could tell that those eyes were regarding him with scrutiny. Alfred wasn’t sure why, but now knew that the man he saw as a son, wasn’t dismissing the issue or that he didn’t care, but was trying to down play the situation in front of Master Dick. 

In a weak, but light-hearted voice, the older of his two charges spoke. “Well, it isn’t really normal for a kid to know their parent’s Visceral Fat Levels, Basal Metabolic Rate, ECW Ratio, BMI, Fat Mass, Muscle Mass, or their body measurements, Dick.”

Alfred snorted loudly. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at me. You’re the one who told me to tell them everything I knew.” Dick blushed brightly.

“Indeed, I did, Master Dick. But, what I meant by that was, Master Bruce’s birthday, height, weight, allergies and his health insurance.” Alfred chortled internally. It still wasn’t normal, although not rare, for a fifteen-year-old child to know such things.

“You could have specified, besides, if it weren’t for the advanced vital monitors you made Lucius develop and put into our watches, I wouldn’t even know my own health details, let alone Bruce’s!” The boy grumbled, while walking over to the bed and handing the drink over. 

Alfred watched as Master Bruce took the offered drink. Though it was only for a split second, he noticed as Master Bruce glanced to the watch on Master Dick’s wrist. 

“So, that’s how? I should have taken it…” Master Bruce spoke almost inaudibly before trailing off.

A wave of understanding flooded Alfred as he realised what he had been saying and why he trailed off. Standing up angrily, Alfred shoved the chair he was sitting on back. As it fell backwards and hit the floor, his restrained anger finally boiled over. Dropping all formalities, he growled. “Dick, leave the room this instant, I need words with Bruce, alone!” 

Without argument or hesitation, the boy left the room hurriedly.

~SB~

In shock, Bruce stared at the man who raised him. As the door to his hospital room closed, Bruce was pulled out of his surprise, when Alfred forcefully grabbed a hold of his white hospital gown and pulled him forward. 

Almost screaming, Alfred barked at him. “I’m with you, Master Bruce. I’ve always been with you.” Bruce could see the tears starting to form in the older man’s eyes. “But, when you pull stunts like this, you make me wonder about myself and the choices I’ve made.”

Glaring back at the man who was much more than just a butler to him, he retorted snidely. “Why do you even care, Alfred? I’m just your employer, it’s not like I actually mean anything to you.”

“I’ve sewn you up, I’ve set your bones, but I won’t bury you. I’ve buried enough members of the Wayne family!” Alfred snarled, clearly not bothering to respond to the nonsense Bruce was dribbling. He knew Alfred saw him as the son he never had, he knew that Alfred loved him, he didn’t want him to though. It made him feel guiltier for having chosen death over life and the people who cared for him.

He knew his next words were going to not only hurt Alfred, but destroy him. They were going to undermine everything his guardian had ever done for him, but he needed to push him away, needed to make Alfred hate him so he would let him go and allow him to do what he needed to do. “So, is that what this is all about? Not wanting to bury the last Wayne? Not wanting to lose your pay check?”

After he spoke the words, he wanted to take them back, but he couldn’t. The expression on Alfred’s face turned from a look of anger to complete and utter devastation. He let go of his gown and took a step back, but didn’t shy away. Alfred looked at him for a moment before taking a deep breath, obviously trying to compose himself. “I know you don’t actually think that. I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. I care too much for it to work.”

Bruce frowned, taken aback but not completely surprised that Alfred was able to see right through him. “And, how do I know you care, huh?” Bruce riposted.

“Well, I’ve always found how much someone cares about you is directly proportional to how much you can piss them off, as it were.” The sad expression on Alfred’s face changed again, but this time to one of tired and fond exasperation. “And, you sure as hell piss me off, Boy!”

He grumbled. It was always hard to win an argument with Alfred. “Fine!” He conceded. “But, even if you do care, shouldn’t what I want matter? Shouldn’t I be able to decide what happens to me? Shouldn’t I be able to go and see them again if I want to?” Bruce questioned. He had never intended having to explain his actions to anyone. He never intended admitting that he was that desperate to see his parents again.

Alfred bent down and picked up his chair and took a seat again, before speaking. “Death and chance, stole your parents. But, rather than become a victim, you have done everything in your power to control the fates. For what is Batman, if not an effort to master the chaos that sweeps our worlds? An attempt to control death itself.” Reaching out and taking his hand tenderly, Alfred continued. “So why now, Master Bruce? Why give up the fight now?”

The words came out before he could stop them. “Because I’m tired, Alfred. I don’t know how to keep going!” 

“Why do we fall, Sir?” When he didn’t respond, Alfred answered for him. “So, we can learn to pick ourselves up. Every time we fall, we learn a new way of coping and continuing on. Broken wings mend in time and so will you. I know you miss them, I miss them too but, your fight isn’t over yet, I won’t let you give up yet, not when you have so much to live for.”

“And, what do I have to live for, Alfred?”

“When you told me your grand plan for saving Gotham, the only thing that stopped me from calling the men in white coats was when you said that it wasn’t about thrill seeking.” Alfred let go of his arm. “I never wanted you to come back to Gotham. I always knew there was nothing for you here, except pain and tragedy and I wanted something more for you than that. I still do. Then you met Master Clark and together you adopted Master Dick and I then finally believed maybe I was wrong and there was a chance for you to have a life here and I refuse to let that chance slip away from you. You deserve it too much!”

Bruce closed his eyes, rested back into his bed more and finally relented. Alfred was right, he couldn’t give up. He had Gotham, Clark, Dick and Alfred to live for. 

~

After Alfred had left the hospital and taken Dick home with him, Bruce had snuck out. Now in his car speeding down the freeway, Bruce had only one destination in mind. He was headed to Metropolis. Lex had returned home to his penthouse in the city of glass the day after he had shown Bruce the wonders that LSD could bring a person.

As he roared down the road, doing well over the speed limit, Bruce was still feeling somewhat furious with Alfred. Even though the man had talked him into continuing to live, not just for himself but for the ones he loved, he had had made his decision and it may sound petty, but he was mad that he had saved his life and stopped him from achieving his hearts desires, when it was his fault he was like this in the first place. If the old man had just dropped the idea of him attending the stupid gala, then he would never have been out drinking with Oliver, he would never have gone to the cemetery, in turn he would never have gone home with Lex, would never have done the drugs and then this whole issue would never have happened. 

He also couldn’t understand why Alfred hadn’t just fixed him up at the manor instead of allowing Dick to call the emergency services. Alfred had the know-how and the supplies to do so, so why didn’t he? Had it been another lesson? Had he wanted to humiliate him into not doing it again? Even though Bruce knew he could trust that this incident wouldn’t make it to the papers, he still didn’t like the fact that so many people had been witness to his weak moment.

Pushing the accelerator to the floor harder, Bruce groaned as his body ached, still in pain from his run in with Bane and the gash in his arm, he needed to hurry up and get to Lex Corp. 

~

Arriving at Lex Corp, Bruce rode the elevator to the top floor. 

When the doors opened, he stepped out into a foyer, as he did so, the doors to the penthouse opened. 

“Oh, Bruce. I was just on my way out. Is there something I can help you with?” Lex asked pulling the door shut behind him. 

“I, umm, how you say, may have misplaced that little pick me up you gave me.” Bruce looked to the floor trying to make himself seem meek and small. He wasn’t sure if Lex had anymore pills left, let alone if he’d give him more, so he hoped his act would make the other man take pity on him.

Lex let out a soft chuckle. “You mean, your butler finally found them and disposed of them?” Bruce’s head shot up and he looked Lex in the eye’s in disbelief. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I knew it was bound to happen. I learnt from our teen years, nothing happens with you without dear Alfred knowing. I’m actually surprised it took him so long to find your little stash.”

Bruce scowled. “Alright, well, are you going to help a guy out with more or not?”

At that question, Lex turned back around and re-entered his penthouse. “Follow me.” He called over his shoulder. As Bruce followed Lex through his home and down the hall, he hesitated at the other man’s bedroom door before stealing himself and following him in. Upon entering, he saw Lex pull out another little bag of pills from his bed side draw. As Lex turned and held them out to him, Bruce reached for them, but just as his fingers grazed the bag, it was pulled from his reach. “This time it’ll cost you.”

“What could you possibly want from me? You’re already rich so money isn’t an issue. So, what could the price possibly be?” 

Lex grin mischievously. “I want a hug!”

“A hug, that’s it?” Bruce sneered. 

“I heard Batman gives great hugs, so I would like one.”

“Where on earth did you hear that from? Actually, you know what, never mind. Just give me the damn drugs, Lex.” Bruce said, stepping forward and into the other man’s out stretched arms.

As Lex wrapped his arms around Bruce and returned the embrace, he groaned gutturally before releasing him. “Hmm, that was nice.”

“Okay, now that’s done, hand them over.” Bruce demanded stepping back and holding out his hand.

Lex smiled as he dropped the baggy onto his out stretched palm.

“Well, I hope you enjoy them, Bruce. Don’t lose them this time.”

Bruce frowned down at the bag in his hand, he knew the moment he walked in the door of the manor, he and Alfred would be in a wrestling match over them, if the old bugger didn’t kill him for sneaking out of the hospital first. Bruce cringed internally. He knew if he wanted the space to indulge in these amazing pills and to have the freedom to drown his problems in alcohol in the interim between doses, he couldn’t return home. He had promised to keep living, but had never promised not to resort to vices. 

Lifting his gaze to meet the inquisitive brow of the man in front of him, he stated. “Actually, Lex, I have one more favour to ask.”

“Hmm, and what’s that?”

“Do you think I could crash here for a couple of nights?” Bruce hated himself so much for having to rely on his partner’s nemesis for refuge.

Lex snickered whole heartedly. “That will cost you a lot more than just a hug, Bruce.”

He scowled. “What’s the price?”

Lex snorted loudly. “I want a kiss on the lips this time.”

Bruce stared at the other man dumb founded. “You want a kiss? I’m sorry, but, yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Shrugging, Lex stated. “I guess you were just leaving then, weren’t you?”

Sighing, Bruce asked. “Why do you want a kiss anyway, Lex? I thought if there was anyone you tried to coerce something like this out of, it would have been Clark.”

“Under normal circumstances, you’d be right. But, at the moment, I want to know what makes you so special. I want to experience for myself, how one kiss from you, turned my beautiful farm boy against me.” Lex huffed slightly. 

“Lex, you did that to yourself. You have no one else to blame but yourself.” Bruce growled lowly.

“Oh, but you see, Clark and I may have been damaged on the outside, but it didn’t affect our feelings for one another. Up until Clark met you, he would have done anything for me. But, then you showed up and his desires changed. Changed our friendship.”

Bruce groaned. Was Lex really that petty and jealous? “Alright, Lex, if you’re really that strung up on wanting to figure out how one kiss changed everything, then I’ll show you. After all, I really do need a place to lay low for now.” Bruce stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “But, this means nothing, understood? I love Clark and desire no one else.”

Lex smiled. “I understand.” Then suddenly, Lex leaned in and kissed him. It was chase at first, then as Bruce tried to pull away, Lex deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Bruce’s mouth and tasting him. Bruce hummed, Lex’s lips were softer then he expected, nothing like Clark’s, but surprisingly they felt good against his. Instinctively, Bruce’s arms raised and encircled the other man’s waist. Lex in return wrapped himself around Bruce and pulled him in closer. Bruce’s mind drifted to Clark and how much he missed him and how much he wished it were Clark in his arms at that very moment.

Bruce felt the slender form of the other man through his shirtsleeves. Bruce could also feel the hardening erection in Lex’s pants pushing against his own. Bruce moaned slightly at the hard length rubbing against him. As Bruce grabbed a hold of Lex’s shirt, the other man continued to dominate the kiss. Lex was confident and in charge, which made Bruce’s mind stumble a little. Pulling away slightly, Bruce tried to hold the other man at arm’s length. “Lex, that’s enough.”

Lex looked at him through lust drunk eyes. “I suppose you’re right. Your debt has been paid, make yourself at home. Now, I really must get going.” Lex let go of him and proceeded past him and out the door. 

Once it was clear he was gone, Bruce sat down on the edge of the large bed that sat in the middle of the room. Bruce ran his fingers through his hair exasperatedly. After that, he really did need a drink to sterilise his mouth and to get high.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ Following Alfred over, Clark lent down and pulled the man into a tight hug. “I’m here now, Alfie, everything is going to be okay!” ~

From the shower, Clark could hear his personal cell phone ringing. Quickly rinsing the soap from his body, Clark wondered who it could be. J’onn was still asleep in bed and it would only be approximately two in the morning at home, so he was perplexed at why he was receiving a call. For a moment, Clark got excited, he knew at this time Bruce would only just be getting home from his patrol of Gotham, so he hoped it was his stubborn partner finally ringing to apologise. He had seriously missed his voice this last month. He knew at any time he could just hone in on his lover and listen to him, but the idea of that just made him miss him more.

Once his body was clear of any suds, Clark used his super speed to grab a towel and race out to answer his phone.

Picking up the phone from his bedside table, Clark’s eyes widened at the caller I.D.

“Hello, Alfred. Sorry I haven’t been in touch the last few days, we’ve been swamped with the case. Is everything alright, our usual call time isn’t for another eight hours?” Clark couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

“Well, you see, Master Clark, I was calling to find out when you and Mister J’onzz intended on returning to the states?” Alfred’s voice came through the phone softly. He sounded tired. 

“We were planning on flying back this time tomorrow, as long as everything goes well that is. Why, Alfred, is something wrong?” Clark was growing more concerned as the line went quiet for a moment. 

“It’s Master Bruce, I’m extremely worried for his wellbeing.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Clark sat down on the edge of his bed, bracing himself for the news to come.

“Well, at first I wasn’t too concerned. After you left he had become a little bit more withdrawn and crotchetier than usual, but…” Alfred trailed off. 

“But?”

“He attended a gala last week which the city held in honour of his parents you see.” Alfred sounded hesitant to continue. “I knew he wasn’t keen on going, but I convinced him to go anyway. While there, he indulged and partook in some sociable drinking with Mister Queen.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, it’s good for Bruce to let his hair down once and a while.” Clark stated knowing that there was surely more to come.

“Yes, I agree also, Sir. But, the thing is, after drinking excessively with Mister Queen, Master Bruce had called for Ms Lance to pick up her husband.”

“That was very responsible of him.” 

“Yes, indeed it was.”

“I hear another but coming along.” Clark sighed. Why wasn’t Alfred just getting to the point?

“But, when Ms Lance offered to bring Master Bruce home, he declined her and stated he would drive himself home.”

Clark’s heart lurched in his chest. “He wasn’t in an accident, was he?”

“No, Sir, he wasn’t.”

“That’s good, but, Alfred, can we speed this along, preferably to where the problem comes in.” Clark didn’t mean to rush the man, but he was getting impatient and his anxiety couldn’t take much more suspense. 

“I’m sorry, Sir. Well getting to the point, Ms Lance called me when she arrived home to make sure Master Bruce had made it back safely, but the thing is, he didn’t return until the next day. He wreaked of alcohol and appeared extremely dishevelled.” Alfred let out a loud sigh. 

“And, did you find out what he was doing all night?”

Alfred hesitated, but finally spoke again after another moment of silence. “Well, Sir. He claims he spent the night at Mister Lex Luthor’s hotel.”

“He what?” Clark shouted into the phone. 

“Sir, he assures me that it was all platonic and the scoundrel was just offering him somewhere to sleep off his intoxication and a shoulder to lean on.” The older man tried to reassure him. 

Taking a deep breath, Clark tried to rain in his emotions. “Okay, so if nothing happened, what are you so worried about?”

“After he returned home, Master Bruce asked me to buy him some scotch and when I refused, he lashed out and ever since then his behaviour has been erratic.”

“Explain to me his behaviour.” Clark said, trying to keep himself calm.

“At first, he would be just spending an unusually large amount of time locked away in your bedroom, Sir. He had locked himself away for nearly four days, refusing meals or allowing anyone in, even neglecting his duties as Batman. But then, one night he ventured out and down to the cave. When I went to check on him, the cave was empty, he and his suit were gone. When I tried to get a hold of him, he didn’t answer his communicator or phone. So, I…” Alfred trailed off again.

“You what, Alfred?” Clark snapped a little too aggressively. He couldn’t help it though. Not only had Bruce stayed at Lex’s hotel but now he was acting like a recluse and cordoning himself off from the world. His partners behaviour was alarming and scary. 

“I logged into his suit’s camera, just to see where he was and if he was okay, but what I saw was horrifying, Master Clark.” Clark held his breath waiting for the next piece of information. “He was facing off against Bane, but the thing was, he wasn’t fighting back. Bane had him pinned to the ground and was beating him mercilessly. All the while Master Bruce just lay there laughing, goading the man to hit him harder. It was as if he didn’t feel the pain at all and with the things he was saying, it was as if his mind had transcended from his body.”

“Alfred, what is he doing now?” Clark climbed to his feet as he started to rush around the room packing his belongings.

“I do not know, Sir. But, one would assume he is with the person he got –” Alfred came to an abrupt halt. 

“Got what, Alfred?” Clark stopped moving around the room and stood still, he didn’t like where this was going. 

“The thing is, Sir, once I saw the horrifying images of Master Bruce getting beaten, I shut it off and rushed to your room. Now, I usually don’t snoop in your room, I only go in there to clean as you know. But, the lad had been spending so much time in there that I needed to know if he was hiding something.”

“Oh, god, Alfred. You found something, didn’t you?” 

“Indeed, I did, Sir. Upon looking in Master Bruce’s bedside table, I found –” Alfred’s voice became choked. Clark could hear the man trying to hold back his cries. 

“It’s okay, Alfie, just tell me what you found. Whatever it is, I’ll sort it all out, I promise.” Clark cooed softly into the phone.

While trying to stifle a cry, Alfred’s voice came through the phone in a strangled whale. “I found pills, Master Clark.”

“What type of pills?” Clark was ready to explode, he was filled with righteous anger but also deep concern.

“They appeared to be some sort of serotonergic psychedelic, Sir.”

“You mean hallucinogens? Like LSD or Acid?” Clark swallowed hard dreading the response he knew was coming. 

“Exactly that.”

As Alfred responded, Clark’s eye shone red with rage and he accidently shot a hole through the tv cabinet on the other side of the room. Covering his eyes with one hand, Clark took a deep breath trying to compose himself. After several moments he finally spoke. “What happened after that?”

“I disposed of the drugs, but once Master Bruce found out, he lashed out at me and then forced me out.”

“Okay and you think he’s with the person who gave him these pills? Who do you think would…” Clark trailed off when the sudden realisation of exactly who had supplied his boyfriend with said drugs. “Lex!?”

Alfred replied, his voice becoming harsh and steely. “That’s precisely who I believe is behind all of this.”

“Okay, Alfred. There is no need to worry anymore. I’m on my way, I’ll be back in the states in the next ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Master Clark.” As Clark went to hang up the phone, Alfred spoke again. “Um, Master Clark.”

“Yes, Alfred?” Clark asked hesitantly.

“There is one more thing.” Somehow with just those five words, Alfred had never sounded more pusillanimous.

“Please tell me it doesn’t get worse, Alfred?” Clark was afraid to know the answer to his question. The fear sat on him like a pillow over his mouth and nose. Enough air got by it, allowing his body to keep functioning, but it was crippling all the same. 

“I know he wouldn’t want me telling you this and I wish I wasn’t, but I believe as his partner you have a right to know.” Alfred sounded as though his world had come crashing down. “Three days ago, Master Bruce tried to kill himself, Sir!”

Clark’s palms were sweaty and the adrenaline that coursed through his system was starting to shut down his ability to think logically. He wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of Bruce, either would do. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, Alfred!” Clark roared, not caring the pictures on the walls, the windows and anything loose sitting around him shook with the slight shock wave that came with the power in his voice.

“I needed you to know all the information first, Master Clark! I needed you to understand the why first!” Alfred replied sternly. 

Clark could understand that. He could also understand the not wanting to tell him bit. But, he was furious that it had taken three days for him to be told.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Master Clark!” Alfred trembled into the phone.

Clark didn’t respond. He just hung up and returned to gathering his belongings from around the room. He didn’t have time to console Alfred, he needed to hurry up and return to the states.

~

After having retrieved all his bits and bobs, Clark had spoken to J’onn, who had come into his room, having woken at the tremor that had gone through the building, before grabbing his suitcase and speeding out of the hotel. 

High in the sky, Clark contemplated what to do. He’d never been in a situation like this before. Bruce was his partner, he knew him better than anyone in the entire world and yet he had no clue how he was supposed to handle this situation? Would Bruce see him and instantly submit to his fate or would he fight all the way as he had with Alfred? Would Bruce be glad to see him or would he try to push him away? It had been roughly a month since they had spoken last and it hadn’t ended on good terms, so, Clark just hoped his relationship could survive these rocky waters. 

At well under half speed, Clark was still able to fly from Moscow to Gotham in less than five minutes. He didn’t bother to rush, not a lot could happen in the difference between five minutes and ten seconds, could it? Besides, Clark needed time to think of an attack plan. 

In the distance, Clark could see the old Gotham city clock tower and even further ahead, he could also see his home of the last five years. Most of the manor was shrouded in darkness, except a solitary lamp that was lit up by the front door. 

Quickly flying over and landing on the stoop, Clark unlocked the door with his key. As he walked inside, Clark switched on the main foyer lights, when he did so, he notice the sleeping figure on the staircase. Alfred was slumped over the bottom steps, his phone clutched to his chest. Clark wasn’t sure if the man had fallen to sleep in the last ten minutes while waiting for him or if he had passed out from exhaustion, after waiting around for Bruce to eventually return home. 

Placing his suitcase by the front door, Clark strolled over to the sleeping figure. Squatting down and gently caressing his shoulder, Clark spoke. “Hey, Alfred. You shouldn’t sleep here! You’ll get sick!” 

Slowly sitting up, the older man rubbed his eyes wearily. Clark smiled a bright smile as Alfred looked up to him. “Master Clark, you’re home. And, what of Master Bruce?” Alfred asked rapidly springing to life. Clearly surprised to see him so soon and after his abrupt hang up of the phone.

“I was just quickly dropping my bag home first, then I was going to head over to Metropolis to find our boy, well, that was until I saw you sleeping here. I thought I should wake you before I headed off.”

Clark watched as Alfred took in his shaggy appearance and then glance towards his bag by the door. Smiling up at him, Alfred spoke humorously. “In the morning, I shall arrange for a barber to come and give you a clean-up, but for now, I’ll take your bag upstairs whilst you get a wriggle on!” 

Clark laughed. He normally wouldn’t agree to such a thing, but after being away for two months and having to come home to deal with this mess, he could agree that some pampering to fix up his unkempt and homely state of appearance, would actually be very welcomed. “Okay, deal. But make sure as soon as you’ve put that stuff away, you get some sleep. I can handle the trouble maker until morning, okay!” Clark knew there was no point arguing with Alfred to not put his belongings away, but knew he could at least try and make the man get some much-needed shuteye. 

Without saying a word, Alfred climbed to his feet and walked over to the door and collected Clark’s discarded suitcase up. 

Following Alfred over, Clark lent down and pulled the man into a tight hug. “I’m here now, Alfie, everything is going to be okay!” Clark could tell the fear travelled in Alfred's veins but it never made it to his facial muscles or skin. His expression remained solid and mute, his eyes as steady as if he were shopping for shoes.

When Clark released him, Alfred spoke. “Then I shall retire for the night as soon as I’m done with this. I leave the rest in your capable hands, Sir.” Alfred may have been apprehensive, but Clark knew he trusted him completely.

Clark nodded in return before super speeding out the front door and back into the night sky. 

His heart ached like a wolf was eating at his chest, tearing its way to his trembling heart. It threatened to devour him, eat him whole and leave nothing but scraps behind. But he refused to be the scraps that were left. He needed to gain control of his emotion so as to face his task at hand. He needed to see Bruce, needed to bring him home and mend him the best he could. He needed to get him back on his feet and back to the Bruce he knew and loved.

At full speed, it would only take him a matter of a second to arrive at Lex Corp, but instead Clark slowed down and took his time again. He wasn’t going extremely slow, he would reach Metropolis in less than sixty seconds, but for the moment he wanted to scope out the situation. He had to know what he was walking into.

Expanding his hearing, Clark located the two heart beats he knew almost better than his own. Unsurprisingly, they were both in Lex’s penthouse, exactly where Clark thought they’d be. 

As Clark listened in on their conversation, he became perplexed. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Brucey.” Lex murmured softly. 

“Have I now, Lexi!” Clark heard Bruce reply smoothly. 

Lex bargained! “If you give me what I want, I’ll give you more pills!” There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Baby. I’m a Villain, manipulation, coercion and deception are in my DNA. Besides, you can’t hide it from me.”

“Hide what?” Clark heard his partner remark snidely. 

“You want it as much as I do. I felt your desire when I was pressed up against you during our kiss the other day, just as you probably felt mine.” 

Clark ground his teeth together, the blood in his body was beginning to boil. Anger raged deep in his system, as hot as lava. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and it was becoming too much for him to handle. He understood Bruce was going through a rough time and that his judgment was somewhat impaired by the drugs, but why had he kissed Lex? And how had Lex convinced him to do it in the first place? 

Rigid with fury, he clenched his fists. Clark wanted nothing more than to fly in and beat the fucker to an inch of his life for taking advantage of his vulnerable love. 

“Lex, I already told you right before we kissed, that it meant nothing to me, all I want is Clark and the only reason I agreed to kiss your creepy ass was to get more pills.” Hearing Bruce say those words brought Clark a small sense of pride. Even though Bruce had still kissed the man and did it for a messed-up reason, at least Clark knew Bruce only wanted him. That knowledge helped simmer his anger a little.

Clark heard Lex grumble before sulking. “Hmph. You tease.” 

“How am I, a God damn tease? I told you my intentions from the beginning.” Bruce snarled.

“Because, your words said one thing, but your cock said another!” Clark frowned at that piece of information. If what Lex said was true, then Bruce was worse for wear then he originally thought. For Bruce to become sexually aroused by a man he found repulsive was appalling. 

As Clark drew closer to the city, he could now see Lex’s penthouse in the near distance, without the need of his beyond perfect vision. 

After a few brief moments of silence, Clark heard as there was some quick shuffling and a muffled murmur of surprise. 

Glaring at the tower in front of him, Clark used his X-ray vision to see in. When he did so, Clark was momentarily stopped in his tracks. He felt sick, in the living room, he could see Lex straddling Bruce’s lap and his mouth hungrily trying to devour his lover’s lips. Bruce’s eyes were wide in surprise but he didn’t show any signs of trying to fight off his pursuer. 

When Lex finally withdrew from the kiss, he goaded. “See, if you really didn’t want me, you’d have pushed me away.” 

With that statement and Bruce’s lack of response, Clark’s fury was unleashed. At full speed, he blasted through the glass balcony door with a thunderous boom, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Ripping the disgusting bald rat from Bruce’s lap, he pinned him to the wall by his throat. 

As Lex gasped for air and clawed at his hand, Clark snarled with a tone as cold as ice. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you, Asshole?” Clark remained expressionless, frost and indifference coating his gaze. As he spoke, he strengthened his hand around Lex’s throat, slowly emitting a dangerous air that would leave most people trembling.

When Clark noticed the man’s anxious state intensify under his interrogation, he was brought back to himself. Clenching his teeth, Clark ruthlessly removed his hand from the other man’s throat. Clark stepped back as Lex fell to the floor. Lex coughed a few times before smirking up at him. “Aww, don’t be so sensitive, Clark!” He croaked.

“Don’t mess with someone else’s relationship and happiness, just because you can’t find your own, Lex.” Clark mocked.

Staggering to his feet, Lex spoke. “Oh, but my dear, Clark. He started it, I was just finishing it!”

“What is that supposed to mean, Lex?” Clark queried scornfully.

“Well, you see, at first I really did just want to help poor Brucey out. But once I got a taste of the pleasures he could give, I decided I would punish you.”

“Punish me? For what?” Clark was beyond confused. ‘What the fuck was Lex talking about?’ He thought.

“Because, he was able to steal you from me, so I decided since you were so easily swayed, I would steal him from you. Make you understand, how you made me feel.”

Registering his words, Clark’s pupils shrunk sharply. Just when Clark thought Lex couldn’t get anymore deplorable, somehow the man always found a way to outdo himself. This time he had gone too far. It was one thing to try and hurt him, but Lex went after his pride and joy. He went after Bruce and that wasn’t okay. It wasn’t even as if he went after Batman. Lex went after his emotionally susceptible and struggling boyfriend. Clark’s barely contained anger was starting to boil over again, he was so close to ending Lex’s game, so close to ending Lex for good. But instead, Clark chuckled a short laugh, no more than two counts before his smile disappeared and he strode closer to his nemesis and struck him hard in the face. As his hand collided with the man’s nose, he could hear the breaking of cartilage, the cracking of cheek bones and the sound of blood vassals bursting. It was deeply satisfying. 

Stepping back again, Clark watched as Lex dropped to the floor again, while writhing in excruciating pain. From his position over him, Clark watched on as blood started gushing from Lex’s nostrils. Clark could also see the beginnings of two large black bruises forming under both his eyes. 

Clark could feel the fires of vehemence and odium smouldering in his own eyes as he weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to him for exacting revenge. Smirking down at the pathetic excuse for a human being, Clark’s face contorted into a look of repugnance before he spat at him. “So, you want to play with me? Alright, I’ll make sure to break you!” Typically, Clark wouldn’t do something so degrading, but Lex really deserved it this time.

Without sparing him another glance, Clark turned towards the love of his life.


	6. Chapter 6

As Clark marched over to the couch where Bruce still sat in a daze, he noticed his lover straighten his back like a rod. At that very moment, Clark heard as Bruce’s heart rate and blood pressure heightened. A cold sweat forming on his brow from anxiety. It was obvious Bruce knew he was in trouble. As he drew closer, Clark watched as Bruce clenched his fists tightly, his rapidly pounding heart slowing with the action. For a brief moment their gazes collided, but Bruce frantically lowered his head, avoiding his eyes. A knot twisted in his stomach at seeing his partner do so. It hurt to see Bruce behave in such a way, especially towards him.

Clark wanted to walk right up to him and tell him he loved him, that he would do anything for him, that he wanted him, flaws and all. He wanted to tell Bruce that everything was okay, that he was here now and to hold him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to. He was afraid at what might happen if he let his composure slip so soon. Staring down at his partner, Clark questioned why life takes souls from one uncomfortable place to another?

After a minute of silence, Bruce greeted him politely with his infamous Brucey Wayne smile, clearly attempting to pretend as though nothing was wrong. “Hello, Love.” As soon as the words were said however, he looked as if the muscles of his face had suddenly gone on strike. Everything about it was slack and it gave him an aura of one who would spurn even the most well-meaning attempts to strike up a conversation.

Clark remained straight-faced as well, not moving, his gaze uncertain, trying to give the impression that he hadn’t heard Bruce’s words at all. After a long while, he blinked rapidly, shrugging off the moment and turning, Clark continued past him. Taking long strides, he walked towards the door and quickly left the penthouse.

Bruce sometimes had a cold and aloof personality that made it difficult for others to get close. His authority in the business industry and as Batman easily instilled fear in others, forcing them to behave carefully around him. But, for Clark, it was a different story. Most of the time it was Bruce trying to do the pleasing, trying to make sure he didn’t upset his super powered boyfriend. So, when he exited Lex Corp and entered onto the street, he wasn’t surprised to find Bruce hot on his heels.

Apart from his outburst at Lex, Clark’s plan had worked perfectly. Bruce had followed him and left the penthouse without a fight. Now they were on the street where Bruce wouldn’t be able to cause a scene. 

Clark wondered how long he could prolong this. If he could somehow get Bruce home without needing to address the issue at hand. He wondered what was going through Bruce’s mind.

Taking a deep breath, Clark peered behind him without turning around. Bruce’s shoulders were slumped and his eyes cast down in a despondent gaze. His mouth was set in a semi-pout. He kicked a stone that sat on the sidewalk with the side of his ridiculously expensive all black Valentino trainers. 

In the half-light of the moon, Bruce looked like the shadow he'd aimed to always be. Standing on the street, he could be anybody, and in a way, Clark guessed he was. At that moment, Clark realised, he had taken their bond for granted, and in his naivety, he’d thought it unbreakable. But if he let this be prolonged for any longer, it wouldn’t only be broken, but shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars above. Clark wanted to beg, to plead, to get down on his knees and tell him that his life had so much meaning, that their love had meaning, that all the hardships he had ever faced had some greater meaning, that he wasn’t alone in all of this and that he would never leave him alone again, but Clark knew that face. It was the one Bruce wore when his ears were closed and his mind had put up barriers to any and all new information and no matter what Clark said, it would only push him further away. So, when Clark, rotated on the spot and walked closer, it was with a mask of contentment, he knew what he had to do. Clark knew Bruce believed that actions spoke louder than words.

~SB~

Bruce glanced up from the stone he was nudging with his foot, when all the hairs on his body came to attention and his body chilled with Goosebumps. Clark was only inches away, looking at him with a face full of emotion. He could see happiness, anger, sadness, fear, hope and despair all fighting to be the leading expression. It was a face so different to the one Clark had shown him only moments ago in the penthouse. It was as if at first Clark was unsure as to how to approach him and tried to hide any and all emotion, but now he had decided to let it all be seen for some reason. Bruce wondered what was going through Clark’s mind.

Clark and himself seemed to have a silent conversation as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was as if Clark could see his desire to continue to live, but could also see his trepidation to do it without the help of vices. Surprisingly, there was no hate in his eyes though, all there was, was love and concern. Seeing that look in his love’s eyes, filled Bruce with a feeling he hadn’t realised he only ever experienced with Clark. Finally, he looked away, as tears threatened to blur his vision, when he felt a hand encircle his. It was soft and warm, reassuring almost, as if the owner of that hand sensed his desperation.

When Clark’s hand finally let go of his, it didn’t retreat, it ran up his arm until it met his shoulder. Then without a word or warning, Bruce was engulfed into an embrace. Clark’s hug was stronger than anything Bruce had ever known, as if holding him wasn't quite enough, as if Clark had to feel every ounce that he was pressed into every ounce that was him. In that moment of feeling Clark so close, Bruce felt awake somehow, more alive than he had been in so very long.

In his embrace the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Bruce's mind was at peace. How could it be that he hadn't seen Clark’s love for what it was before? Pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free. He felt his body press in closer, soft and warm.  
Despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of Clark’s body pressed against his. He sunk into the heat of his side, appreciative of the fact Clark hadn’t come at him with words, but instead chose the route of comfort and support. He knew they would have to talk eventually, but for now he just enjoyed their closeness.

Bruce had to concede, even though he played the role of Batman, Caped Crusader, Dark Knight and Vigilante, he was nothing more than just a man when wrapped in Clark Kent’s arms. Just as vulnerable and weak as anyone else.

Within Clark’s embrace, he felt as his fingers gently ran up and down his spine, coaxing shivers out of his body. With his cheeks blushing hotly, he glanced up into Clark’s captivating blue eyes. Clark leaned down, resting his forehead against his. Bruce watched breathlessly as his eyes studied his with silent intensity. Clark opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. Bruce felt as Clark’s breath ghosted across his face. Bruce shut his eyes in anticipation. He stifled a surprised gasp as Clark’s soft lips captured his, causing his body to flush with heat. The heat seemed to travel through every vein in his body, warming him. But just as he felt a rush of euphoric bliss envelop him whole, making his heart sing with all the emotions of the last two months, Clark drew away. Bruce reopened his eyes and instantly he missed those lips on his. 

Bruce hadn’t realised how much he had missed this man’s touch. He had known he had missed Clark’s presence beyond anything else in the world, but Clark’s touch was something he didn’t realise he lived for. Not that he had ever wanted it, but not even the touch from the likes of Lex Luthor compared to the man who he was clinging onto with dear life.

When Clark had first burst through the balcony doors, Bruce had been beyond shocked to see the fury that roared within him and the way he had treated Lex had stunned him, it wasn’t in Clark’s nature to be so cruel. So, when he had approached him, Bruce had been scared out of his mind. He knew why he had come, it was obvious. Alfred had finally called him in and it was clear Clark had been fully briefed on the situation. Bruce had nowhere to hide, Clark knew everything and it was time to face the music.

It wasn’t as if Bruce was scared of Clark himself, he knew that Clark would never hurt him, he was in turn scared of what Clark thought of him and what his lover might possibly have to say. 

But now, now seeing the look on his face and within his eyes, now wrapped in this man’s arms and now having had his lips upon his, Bruce’s mind relaxed. It was crazy to think how only a few simple gestures made him feel so safe, secure and gave him the will to carry on. 

Over the last few days, Bruce had had a lot of time to think. Being with Lex had put everything into prospective. He realised how selfish he had been and how his actions had impacted his family, the family he and this man had created together, the family in which he always longed for and cherished, the family that despite all the things he put them through still stood by him. But even with all that thinking he had done, he neglected to think about Clark. He had purposefully stayed away from the thought of his partner, because he knew full well how disappointed he would be in him and that thought hurt more than any pain he had ever experienced.

Bruce wanted to apologise. He wanted to beg Alfred for forgiveness, he wanted to prove to Dick he was better than this and that he’d never let him down like that again, he wanted to show Clark he was still the man he knew him to be, but he just didn’t know how. 

Even though Lex had been a friend of some sorts and kept the scheming away from him and had been amicable and hospitable enough, despite the whole coming onto him thing, he knew they wouldn’t see it that way. He knew that they’d only see it for what it truly was, and what Bruce knew it was deep down, a weak man seeking out the comfort of a crook and a poor excuse to do the wrong thing and that was the main reason he was afraid to go back and to see Clark. It would all just be easier to continue doing the wrong thing and keep pretending like nothing mattered, but he supposed that was the coward’s way out.

Suddenly Bruce was pulled out of thought when he felt his feet leave the ground. Opening his eyes which he hadn’t realised he had closed again and lifting his bowed head from Clark’s chest, he peered down. Clark was flying them into the air. A thrill went through Bruce’s body at the sight, yet just another experience he had missed. 

Bruce stilled when he noticed Clark watching him, watching the excitement spread through his body. Bruce didn’t want Clark to know how happy he was making him right now, he didn’t want Clark to know how much his presence affected him. He knew Clark knew about how far off the rails he went while he was away, but he didn’t want Clark to know how much him being away affected him and how much he relied on him. It was pathetic and unfair. Clark had a right to live his life and not be bound by someone else’s fragilities. He had a right to be happy without the fear that if he leaves something like this would happen.

~SB~

As Clark flew them through the air, he couldn’t take his gaze from the man in his arms. He knew he shouldn’t be flying Bruce like this without wearing his uniform, but when he had released Bruce from his kiss, he had felt the other man’s body become almost limp. Clark had heard at the same time as everything in Bruce’s body finally let go. It was almost as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Finally taking in Bruce’s appearance, he realised he somehow looked less homely of the two. Bruce’s hair was a mess, his face was gruff with stubble, his eyes sunken and black, clearly from lack of sleep, his cheeks overly hollow, not in his usual attractive sense but sicklier, his skin was dry and his body appeared dehydrated. 

It was obvious Clark had a lot of work to do, but for now it was late and all he wanted to do was get Bruce home where it was safe and into bed.


	7. Chapter 7

As the morning sun shone through the windows of their bedroom, Clark lay holding tightly to the man in his arms and thought about everything that had happened only mere hours ago.

Though Bruce had willingly gone along with everything Clark had asked of him, he still hadn’t spoken a word to him since his greeting at Lex’s penthouse. 

After Clark had flown them home, he had taken Bruce straight to their bedroom. It had been strange being back in their bedroom after being away for so long. Without letting go of Bruce, Clark had floated them to the bathroom. When Bruce had raised an inquisitive brow, he motioned to the shower before stating. “You wreak of alcohol and it looks like you haven’t bathed in days, so you’re going to have a shower before bed.” Bruce didn’t say anything, he just nodded and began undressing while Clark prepared the shower. 

The shower turned on at the press of a button, with the perfect pressure and temperature. The luxuries of his home were a stark difference from the run-down motel he and J’onn had stayed in over the last two months.

Once Bruce had stripped down, he stepped slowly into the large walk in woodgrain marble shower. As he stepped in, the water beat over his head in steamy rivulets. Bruce closed his eyes to the water as the heat soaked into his skin. Clark watched on as he leaned against the cool stone surface, his exhausted legs threatening to buckle.

Sighing, Clark undressed and proceeded to enter the shower behind him.

Stepping into the shower, Clark’s lips parted as he inhaled deeply. The site before him was quite the stimulant. The water dripped down Bruce’s hair softly and the drops slowly made their way to his body and the perfect abs he had. The water helped to defined his well, organized and seasoned body. Swallowing hard, Clark grabbed the body wash from its place on the inbuilt shelf and lathered it into his hands, before reaching and pulling Bruce into his arms. 

Clark bathed Bruce’s skin lightly, taking careful notice not to touch the bruises that scattered his body or the still healing wound on his arm. As Clark gently massaged the soap into Bruce’s skin, Bruce let out a small groan of appreciation and pressed his back into his chest further. Clark luxuriated in the action. He knew he shouldn’t be, but he found himself becoming excited. Quickly rinsing the soap from Bruce’s body, he removed himself from Bruce’s backside before the continued pressure could stir arousal in his groin. Promptly grabbing the shampoo, Clark spumed Bruce’s gorgeous locks. 

After washing Bruce’s hair, Clark reached for the straight razor only to find it was gone and replaced with a safety razor. Picking it up, Clark studied it for a moment perplexed. Then from the corner of his eye, he noticed as Bruce looked from the razor to the floor with a shame filled expression. Realisation set in as Clark grabbed the shaving cream and brush. 

While holding the shaving kit in his hands, Clark stared at Bruce, who’s head was now hung despondently. A burning sensation spread throughout Clark’s chest. Obviously, that was how Bruce had done it, how Bruce had decided to try and leave him. Grief surged to the forefront of Clark’s being. He felt an emptiness in his heart, as a shear nothingness that took over his body and held onto his soul, threatening to devour him entirely. It gave him this heavy feeling that was like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders and there was nothing he could do to get out from under it. 

Clark wanted to scream and shake Bruce. Clark wanted to ask him why he did it? Ask him why he tried to leave him? Ask him why he didn’t just call him for help? But he knew it was pointless, what had been done was done. Clark always knew Bruce struggled with the loss of his parents, so to ask him why he did it would be useless, because Clark knew all too well the feeling Bruce must have felt. Clark would give anything to see his father again, so understood Bruce’s desire to do what he did. He also knew the type of man his partner was, even in his lowest of times he’d never ask for help, if it were extended to him, maybe then he’d accept the offer, but Bruce wasn’t the type of person to actively approach people for support. 

Stealing himself, Clark rained in his emotions, when suddenly the almost inaudible sobs of the man before him reminded him that now wasn’t the time to be thinking such things. He had plenty of time in the world to go through all of this with Bruce when he was better. For now, he had to get Bruce into bed and back on track with his life. 

Lifting Bruce’s face to meet his, Clark super sped through the shaving process. As time caught up to him, Bruce reached up and ran his fingers along his freshly shaven face. When Bruce lowered his hand, he peered up at Clark with wide eyes, before his composure broke. 

Bruce’s emotions came forth like a hurricane. He began to cry with more violence than any gale. It tortured Clark’s soul to see Bruce like this. Bruce didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of his being screamed in unison, traumatized by the last two months. When the wracking sobs passed he cried in such a desolate way that Clark could not bare to listen any longer. Bruce had gone from gregarious to hanging by a thread within a matter of seconds, it was a transformation Clark wasn’t sure how to reverse. 

Quickly turning off the water, Clark stepped out the shower and picked up a white fluffy towel. After super speeding himself dry, he turned and helped Bruce out of the shower as well. 

Grabbing another towel, Clark proceeded to run it over Bruce’s body and dried him in a matter of seconds. 

As Bruce continued to weep, Clark swept him up into his arms and into a bridal carry. Leaving the bathroom and back into the bedroom, Clark crossed the room and placed Bruce into bed. As Clark turned away he felt a hand grasp his wrist. Turning back around, he lent down and kissed Bruce on the forehead. Murmuring against Bruce’s forehead, Clark whispered. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m just turning off the light.”

Though with eyes full of tears and apprehension, Bruce let go of his arm. Zipping across the room and back, Clark climbed into bed. With the room now darkened, Clark straddled in behind Bruce and spooned him closely to him. 

Running his fingers through Bruce’s hair and quietly soothing him, Clark felt and listened as Bruce relaxed into the embrace and the crying slowly faded away. After only ten minutes, Clark could tell by his even breathing and the steady rise and fall of his chest, that Bruce was sound asleep. 

For hours Clark refused to sleep, he just held Bruce in his arms, watching as the other man slept peacefully. 

Studying the love of his life’s face, Clark watched as the sun’s light danced across his features. Bruce’s features were beautifully accentuated by the golden morning rays. 

“Please, stop staring at me, I can feel your eyes burning holes into me.” Bruce grumbled sleepily as he turned in Clark’s arms to face his chest. 

“I didn’t realise you were awake.” Clark spoke softly as he leaned his forehead against Bruce’s. 

“I was until you started nearly squeezing me to death a few moments ago.” Sighing contently, Bruce kissed Clark’s bare chest. “I’ve missed this!”

“Missed what?”

Frowning, Bruce looked up into Clark’s eyes. “You! You idiot!”

At the insult, Clark glowered. “Well, you seemed to find a substitute to fill my place pretty easily.”

Shoving Clark away, Bruce growled. “Are you being fucking serious right now? All I want is you, all I’ve ever wanted is you!”

Forcefully sitting up and climbing out of bed, Clark reprimanded. “How else do you expect me to react, Bruce?” Clark wasn’t intending to have this conversation so soon, but the words had slipped out before he could stop them and he was now fuming. “Even though you had been indulging in the excessive use of drugs and alcohol, you still ran to him and still allowed his advances. You willingly put yourself into those god damn fucking situations.”

Bruce flinched, from his position on the bed, before bowing his head and placing them into his hands. “I’m sorry, Clark. I’m so, so sorry.” Bruce’s voice started to crack. “I messed up, I’m so sorry.”

Without hesitation, Clark dove onto the bed and gathered Bruce into his arms. “It’s okay, Bruce, it’s okay. I’m here now, please don’t cry.”

Allowing himself to be engulfed into the hug, Bruce buried his face in Clark’s chest. “I’m so pathetic, I’m a disgrace.”

“No, no you’re not, Bruce!” Clark cooed. 

“Yes, I am, I’m supposed to be Batman and I tried to do something so disgraceful and pitiful!” Bruce’s sobs were muffled by Clark’s collar bone. 

“Bruce, everyone makes mistakes, everyone has weak moments!”

“Not Batman, not Bruce Wayne!”

Clark retorted. “You’re only human, Bruce. You’re just a man, you can’t be expected to be perfect all the time!”

“But that’s the thing, how many people were hurt or died because I neglected my duties? What have I done to my Brucey Wayne reputation and image? What damage have I caused Dick and Alfred with my actions?”

“Bruce, if it makes you feel better, I spoke to Oliver and Dinah this morning through text, once they noticed your absence they stepped in to watch over Gotham.”

“But that’s not the point, it’s not their responsibility.” Bruce quipped.

“That doesn’t matter! That’s what friends are for, Bruce. They help each other out when needed. As for your reputation, I scanned all the news articles this morning and there is not a single mention of you or what happened, as for the people involved, they are bound by the law to not say anything, they would also understand what happened and not hold it against you. They see that type of stuff every day.” Clark took a deep breath before continuing. “And, I’m sure with time and a heartfelt apology, Dick and Alfred will come around. They are your family, they care for you Bruce, they love you!”

“And, what about you?” Bruce peered at him with desperate eyes.

“What about me?” Clark queried confused.

“After everything I did, how can you sit here and tell me you’re still by my side? How can you hold me and try to comfort me?”

“Because I love you, Bruce, and no matter what you do or say I’ll always be here for you!”

“How can you love me? I argued with you! I ignored you! I tried to leave you! I even cheated on you! So, so, how can you?” Tears began to spill from Bruce’s eyes again.

Tears were threatening to escape Clark’s eyes as well. “I know, Bruce, I know and I can’t say that it didn’t hurt. It’s been the hardest two months of my life having you ignore me. It felt like my being had been ripped into two when Alfred called me and explained everything and seeing you with Lex in his penthouse and hearing what I did, I wanted to be sick. I wanted to watch the whole world burn. But, none of that mattered to me as much as wanting to make sure you were okay.” Clark reached up and wiped the tears from Bruce’s face. 

“But, I-I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand, Bruce, you just need to know I love you and that’s all that matters!”

“You don’t love me, Clark! You can’t love me. Not after what I’ve done. I’m a repulsive ignominious excuse of a human being. Even right now, I can’t see myself making it through another day without the help of the pills or the drink.”

Sighing, Clark pulled Bruce in closer. “Oh, but I do love you, Bruce. I love you so, so very much and nothing you say or do will change that.”

“If you love me so much, then prove it.” Bruce whimpered.

Clark grumbled, he could tell that Bruce just needed reassurance, but he loathed the idea of having to prove himself to his lover of over half a decade. But if it meant putting Bruce’s mind at ease, he would show him just how much he truly did love him.

Flipping them from their sides and into a position where Bruce was on his back and Clark lay over him, Clark sat up on his haunches.

“Clark?” Bruce spoke his name uncertain. 

“Shh, I’m going to show you how deep my love for you goes, Bruce.” 

With that statement Bruce’s body became rigid and stiff, Clark hoped it was because of anticipation.

Leaning down, Clark placed soft kisses on Bruce’s lips. Bruce kissed back and his hands came up to Clark’s neck and hair. Pulling away, Clark grabbed his hands gently and place them back down by his sides. “No touching.” Clark whispered seductively.

Bruce nodded his head eagerly, allowing at the same time for his hands to be restrained by his side.

It would be a slow process but Clark wanted to enjoy it, but most of all, he wanted Bruce to enjoy it. Clark stopped kissing his lips and moved to Bruce’s jawline, neck, and collarbone. Kissing every inch, Clark could feel Bruce’s struggle to keep his hands down. Continuing on, Clark placed soft butterfly kisses down his chest and abdomen.

“Clark.” Bruce spoke his name with a strangled whimper. At that moment Clark could hear and feel Bruce’s desperation to use his hands and the willpower it was taking him not to. 

Sitting up again, Clark reached forward and ran his fingers up Bruce’s bicep and shoulders, continuing along until his fingers reached the corners of his mouth. Slipping his index and middle finger into Bruce’s mouth he whispered saucily. “Suck.” As Bruce did so, Clark thrust his fingers in and out of his mouth, the whole time his cock becoming hard and flexing from the site of his finger’s fucking Bruce’s mouth. When his fingers were soaked with Bruce’s saliva, he removed them from his lover’s mouth and brought them down to caress Bruce’s centre. 

Bruce’s breathing became ragged as Clark felt his hole quiver around his fingers. As he slowly massaged and played with the opening, Bruce let out small breathy moans. Clark sucked his own bottom lip as he did so and watched eagerly as Bruce arched onto his fingers. Leaning in, Clark spat on Bruce’s tight little hole before slowly pushing his two fingers inside. “Oh, fuck, yes.” Bruce moaned. 

Clark’s cock flexed again at hearing his lover’s enjoyment. As he pushed his fingers in deeper, Clark purposely aimed for Bruce’s prostate. As he gently caressed Bruce’s G-spot, he watched as his boyfriend silently cried out in ecstasy. 

Grinning to himself, Clark asked. “Do you like that, huh, Baby?” Before thrusting his fingers in and out with further.

“Hmm!” Was all Bruce could muster.

Once Bruce’s hole was stretched and ready for him, Clark withdrew his fingers carefully and then moved to settle in between his lover’s legs. As he dropped his hips, so as to line himself up to Bruce’s hole, Clark grasped his thighs and spread them open more. 

Bringing Bruce’s calves up and placing them either side of his head on his shoulders, Clark tilted his head and slowly sucked and nibbled on the back of Bruce’s knee. 

Pulling his lips away from those strong masculine legs, Clark asked, while grasping his cock and playing it over Bruce’s entrance. “You ready for me, Baby? I’m going to make love to you with everything I’ve got and hopefully that way, you’ll never question my desire for you again.”

Clark watched as tear’s began to spill from Bruce’s eyes again. As he lent down and kissed them away, Clark slowly sunk his throbbing member inside Bruce’s hole. “Oh, God, yes, Clark. I want you inside me.” Bruce cried out as he buried his face into Clark’s shoulder.

Clark felt intense pressure and tightness around his cock, every nerve in his body and brain becoming electrified. The anticipation of being together in a way that was more than words and in a way that was so completely tangible, was thrilling. They had had sex the morning before Clark had left for Russia, but it felt like a life time ago.

As he slowly pushed in all the way, Clark was overcome with the desire to just thrust his hips wildly. He didn’t however, he held his restraint, Clark was going to stand by his word, this wasn’t going to be just some quick fuck, this was going to be a long and intense love making session.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Bruce talk about what happened!

Pulling out and thrusting back in again and again, Clark found an overwhelmingly slow but pleasure filled rhythm. On every drive in, Clark could feel Bruce’s extraordinary and exquisite hole cradling his cock. Bruce was so deliciously wet, so tight and so hot. With every agonising plunge in, Bruce cried out in gratification and allowed him in deeper. Clark couldn’t help but feel possessive over the idea of how well they fit together. 

Panting, Clark supported himself on one hand and skimmed his other down between them. Grasping Bruce’s throbbing and leaking member tightly. With that action Bruce’s cries turned from lascivious to a deep noisy thrum that vibrated through his entire body.

Clark wanted to suck, nibble and play with every part of Bruce’s body, but didn’t for fear of affecting his injuries. Instead Clark focused on the welcoming heat of Bruce’s ass. His cock throbbed and pulsated with every movement. Being inside Bruce was one of the best feelings in the world. Clark couldn’t decide whether he preferred this or Bruce being inside him. 

As the muscles in Bruce’s ass massaged his wanting member so heavenly, Clark tighten his grip around Bruce’s.

Jerking Bruce’s cock just as excruciatingly slow as his thrusts, Clark could feel Bruce’s centre tighten and then relax repeatedly. At the pace he was at, he expected Bruce to cum hard at any moment from his deliberate and unhurried sensual escapade.

Leaning up, Clark’s eyes met Bruce’s half lidded ones. His face shy and flushed with arousal. Bruce wasn’t a modest person by any means, but when being taken in the ass and being so close to completion, he always tried to hide his face. Tilting his head, Clark took Bruce’s mouth whole heartedly, so as he couldn’t turn away. Bruce’s mouth was warm and inviting, his lips parting to allow his tongue easy access. With his tongue lustfully sweeping every millimetre of his lover’s mouth, Bruce’s tongue searched Clark’s with passion as well. As their tongues intertwined, Clark could feel the veins on Bruce’s knob pulsate as they pumped the blood into his burning stiff shaft. Gradually building his pace, Clark moved his hips and hand in a synchronising steadiness. As his fist moved along Bruce’s manhood the skin moved up and down over the smooth head of his cock with each pump.

“Hmm, Clark!” Bruce moaned into his mouth.

“Bruce, fuck, yes!” Clark moaned in return.

Kissing him heatedly again for a moment, then pulling back, Bruce stated in between breaths. “All. This. Swearing. I. Might. Cum. Just. By. Hearing. Your. Vulgar. Mouth!” 

Clark grinned and groaned as well, since the previous night, he hadn’t bothered putting a filter on his thoughts or mouth, allowing the words to flow unapologetically. Finally, Clark relented, believing it was time and said the words his partner was longing to hear. “Okay, you can touch me now!” 

Bruce didn’t hesitate. One hand was knotting its fingers through Clark’s hair, while the other roamed Clark’s body in an instant. Bruce dug his fingers in harder and pulled at his hair tighter with every passing second. 

With his powers, Bruce’s touch had always been Clark’s undoing. His abilities not only making him invulnerable but highly sensitive. So, no matter how long he aimed to last, if Bruce touched him, any and all composure was lost and Bruce knew it. Bruce loved to torment him. Bruce would play his palms and finger tips over every inch of his body, leaving a line of electricity in its wake. 

Making Bruce restrain from touching him was always one-part, putting his lover through torture, as Clark knew Bruce lived for being able to caress him and one-part punishment in times like these. Clark had wanted this time to last before allowing Bruce to overload his system with his tenderness. He wanted to show Bruce not only his love, but the amazing sensuality between them, which he would have lost if he succeeded in his endeavours. 

With every thrust, lick and stroke, Clark felt his body being taken over as they both inched closer and closer to their climaxes. As their breathing quickened, all that could be heard throughout the room, was slapping of wet skin against skin and the breathy grunts they both made.

As he jerked Bruce’s cock as fast as he knew he could humanly get away with, without hurting him, Clark thrust his pelvis ravenously, relishing in the movement. 

Panting his name again and again through crudities, Bruce fell over the edge, almost screaming as he did so. Hearing this and feeling Bruce’s body tense under him, Clark closed his eyes and raced over the edge as well. 

As Clark came inside of Bruce, his cock shooting strand after strand, Bruce’s cum shot between them, sitting warmly on both their stomachs. 

Withdrawing his slowly softening shaft from Bruce, Clark opened his eyes as reality slowly came back into view. 

Laying down, Clark pulled the other man into his embrace and held him close, while they both recovered. 

~

After having dozed off, Clark awoke to the other side of the bed empty. Jumping into a panic, Clark flew out of bed and across the room. But when he noticed Bruce standing by his bedside table holding a small box, Clark stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s this?” Bruce queried. 

Smiling, Clark sauntered back over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waste. Taking the small box from Bruce and into his own hand, Clark spoke. “I will explain later, but first, we have some talking to do!”

“Okay!” Bruce sighed and bowed his head. “Where do you want to start?”

Nestling his chin onto Bruce’s shoulder, Clark responded. “I suppose, we could begin with, what brought this on? I know you’ve always struggled with your parent’s deaths, but why now?”

“I guess, I just let the small things get me down and forgot about the things worth living for.” Bruce turned in his arms and returned the embrace.

“What about the drugs? What about Lex?”

“If I’m being honest, I put that down to poor judgement and the work of a man with a silver tongue.” 

Clark shook his head, he couldn’t argue with Bruce on that. He could completely understand how one could be swayed by Lex Luthor, even Bruce Wayne himself. Hugging Bruce tighter, Clark asked the question he wished he didn’t have to. “And, what about…?” He trailed off.

“The drugs and not wanting to face reality, you, Dick or Alfred.” Sighing, Bruce pushed out of the embrace. “But, I promise it’ll never happen again, I won’t let you all down again.”

Clark smiled endearingly and pulled Bruce back into his arms. “I believe you, Bruce. But, I still want you to chat to someone. I won’t push you on anything else, but I just want you to be able to deal with what happened properly. No palming it off like you do everything else.”

Sighing and relaxing back into him, it seemed as though a part of Bruce wanted to fight him on the issue. It was almost as if it were easier for him to continue his self-destructive behaviour then face reality as he had said. It was all too clear to Clark though, that after Bruce’s near-death experience and his stay with Lex, that a lot had been put into prospective for him. Bruce obviously wanted to return to normal and fight for the man he was inside, but Clark could tell that it wasn’t going to be as easy as either of them hoped. Bruce may be fine for now, but choosing to live each day was most likely going to be one of the hardest things Bruce would have to do. It wasn’t even the living part that would be the hardest bit however, it was going to be not resorting to other methods like Bruce had, that was going to be the struggle.

Bruce was the type of man who stuck to his word and kept his promises, so if he decided to do this, it was safe to say he would try everything in his power to do what was needed. 

Looking at him with his beautiful glacier blue and grey eyes, Bruce bolstered. “Okay, whatever it takes to prove to you I’m trying. I understand that it’ll be hard, but since when has anything in my life ever been easy? Besides, Alfred is right, I have too much to live for!” 

Squeezing Bruce tighter to him, Clark spoke. “Okay, well, now we’ve spoken about it, we have all the time in the world to deal with it. There is no need to overwhelm you with too much at once. We can tackle your recovery one step at a time.”

“Agreed!” 

“So, I guess I better answer your question, right?”

“My question?” Bruce asked. When Clark held up the small box he had just taken off of him, realisation dawned on him. “Oh yeah, so what’s in the box?”

Leaning in and kissing him on the cheek, Clark whispered into Bruce’s ear. “Oh, this, well, this was just me wondering the little question of if you’d marry me?” Pulling back, Clark opened the box, revealing a white diamond two and one tenth carat platinum wedding band. Bruce rapidly looked from Clark to the ring and back again. He was speechless. Removing the ring from its little black leather and velvet box, Clark took hold of Bruce’s hand. Sliding the ring on his finger, he stated. “Well, you did ask me to prove to you how much I loved you.”

“Y-Y-Yeah, b-b-but, Clark, I didn’t e-e-expect this!” Bruce stammered over his words flustered. 

Clark joked. “Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, no, of course I’m not! I just…How did you buy this without me knowing?”

“Well, Bruce, I knew you’d notice such a large amount of money being taken out of our account, so I may or may not have gotten Lois to put a portion of my income into a holdings account until I could afford it.”

“But, that money is for you, Clark! Plus, this is a really expensive ring!” Bruce protested. 

“Bruce, when all my daily requirements are taken care of and I have everything I could ever want in the world at my finger tips and all access to your bank account whenever I want, I think I can afford to spend my earnings on whatever I want. Besides, isn’t this the ring you were eyeing off in the store that time when the lady asked if we were ever going to get married?” Clark asked and assured.

“Well, yeah it is, but…. Okay, I guess I can’t really argue with you on that logic.”

“Nope, not really.” Clark chuckled. 

“I suppose, all that’s left is me giving you my answer!” Looking at the ring on his finger, Bruce smiled the most dazzling toothy smile Clark had ever seen before continuing. “Looks like my reasons for choosing to live and to tackle each day head on, have just gotten better!”

“So, you’ll marry me?” Clark questioned even though he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Clark, I’ll marry you!” Bruce rolled his eyes lovingly exasperated.

Clark smiled a bright grin, a grin that rivalled even Bruce’s at that very moment. 

Turning serious for a moment, Clark held Bruce’s gaze. “I don’t want us getting married to be one of the reasons you have to live for. Yes, I want you to be happy and to cherish our lives together, but I want you to live for you, Bruce. I want you to want to do it for you.”

Sighing, Bruce looked back at him endearingly. “I know, Clark and that’s not what I meant by that statement. Yes, you, Dick, Alfred, our lives together, our friends, our mission and everything else will give me something to live for, but take all that away and I still want to do it for myself.”

Clark knew how hard that must have been for Bruce to admit to, so he didn’t push the issue any further. As he said, they had plenty of time to deal with the issue at hard. For now, he wanted to get Bruce back into living his life first. “Okay!” Clark nodded. “Let’s get a shower, because I have been booked into see the barber today and we have a few people to talk to and make amends with before we can celebrate.”

With a bounce in his step, Bruce nodded and eagerly made his way to the bathroom.

Nine months later:

“Master Clark, are you sure it is wise to leave for another mission so soon?” Alfred asked with anxiety in his voice. 

“Yeah, Clark, what if something happens like last time?” Dick matched.

Smiling Clark reassured them. “Guys, it’ll be okay, trust me. He’s come a long way and I’ll only be gone for the week, plus I’ll only be in Suicide Slum, so I’m not going to be far away. Besides, you both know how to contact me if anything does come up.”

Neither Alfred or Dick looked convinced. Clark could understand their uneasiness, he himself was actually extremely apprehensive about leaving Bruce behind again. It had only been a few months since he’d come back from Russia and despite the extraordinary strides Bruce had made in his recovery, he was still a long way from being his old self. But Clark couldn’t let the others know how he felt. He had to have faith in Bruce and hope that his husband would call him if needed. Bruce had promised after all. 

“What are you still doing here? Hurry up and leave already, Lois and Chloe are waiting for you!” 

Playing with the gorgeous wedding band, Bruce has brought him, Clark turned to see Bruce crossing the room in his Etro suit, while carrying a garment bag over his shoulder. Looking his partner up and down, Clark was filled with the desire to grab Bruce in all his suave and sexy glory and take him upstairs for a little last-minute fun before he had to leave. “Well, don’t we look sharp and bold tonight?!” 

Raising a provocative and enticing brow, Bruce leered a mischievous grin. “Indeed. Somehow, without my knowledge I agreed to attended this year’s fashion week in New York.”

Clark snickered. “You, at a fashion show? If it weren’t for Alfred, you’d live in your Batsuit or gym sweats, so, how’d that happen?”

“I honestly don’t know. Something about Oliver being unable to attend and that I owed him and that I had to go as recompense for stressing Dinah out the other month when I had my, uh, melt down.” Guilt began to plague Bruce’s features. 

Reaching out, Clark wiped the wrinkles from his brow and comforted. “You’ve come a long way, Bruce. Just get this out of the way and I’m sure what happened will be forgiven and forgotten. Besides it appears you aren’t going alone?” Clark gestured to the bag in Bruce’s hand.

The smirk Bruce wore only moments ago, reappeared on his lips, before he handed the bag over to the reluctant teen standing beside them. “Actually, you’re right. Dickie bird here will be joining me, along with Roy, Conner, Wally and Kaldur to escort the rest of the ladies attending the show.”

“Bruce, we said we were sorry and as much as we love our girlfriends and the rest of the ladies from the league, a fashion show isn’t mine or the boy’s thing, so, do we really have to go?” Dick sulked while unwillingly accepting the suit.

“Maybe you and the boys will think twice about throwing a party here without permission and expecting poor Alfred to clean it up next time.” Bruce reprimanded. 

Clark and Alfred nodded in agreement. The previous weekend had been a bit of a nightmare, but clearly Bruce had the issue handled.

“Well, since that’s sorted, I better get going.” Clark spoke giving Alfred a quick hug, before pulling Bruce into a hug and planting a kiss on his lips. “Stay safe, Bruce. Make sure you call if you need anything, okay. Anything at all.”

“Just get going already!” Bruce scolded. 

Letting go of his husband, Clark nodded, then spoke to Dick. “Don’t worry, Little Bird, it won’t be that bad.” Then he blurred away. 

~

Later that night, standing on the roof of one of the many dilapidated buildings in Suicide Slum, Clark watched over Lois and Chloe as they impersonated a couple of junkies looking for their next fix. Clark had agreed to be their body guard while they tried to uncover the large underground drug ring that was supposed to have moved into Metropolis. If everything went according to plan, the names of everyone involved would be on the front page of the planet by the end of the week. 

As he watched the two of them complete the first of many deals that would happen this week, Clark felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he pulled it out and saw the caller I.D, concern flooded every fibre of his being. Answering it, he tried to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t be heard by the thugs below. “B, is everything okay? What happened?” 

“Relax, Clark. Nothing has happened. I just, um, wanted to check in, see how your mission was going.” Hearing Bruce’s charming and smooth voice come through the phone without any signs of strain to it, relaxed him completely. 

“It’s going well, the first deal is done. We’ll make contact with them again tomorrow night.” Clark informed.

“Okay, that’s good. So, everything is going well, I’m glad.”

“Yeah, it is.” When the other end of the phone went silent, Clark queried. “So, is there a reason you called? It’s unlike you to want to interrupt me while on a mission.”

“Well, ah, no, I just, umm, wanted to, well, you know…” Bruce stuttered before trailing off.

Clark smiled widely. “It’s okay, Bruce. I miss you too! Now, tell me all about day one of fashion week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the Kudos and lovely comments, it means a lot xx


End file.
